The Appeasment of the Labyrinth
by ForYou.Anything
Summary: Sarah's life is a mess, so she calls on the Goblin King to rescue her. Jareth returns to claim his love, but first the Labyrinth must be appeased, as it is angry after its defeat. Events lead on. RATED M FOR A REASON, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT.
1. Chapter 1

**In case you're wondering what happened, everything got messed up with the chapters so I had to take the whole story down and put it up again. Meh. xxx**

**Hey. This is my first Labyrinth fic so please be nice. It's a little slow to get going, but if you stick with it it will be worth it...promise! **

**OK, standard disclaimer - If you recognise it, whether it is from Labyrinth or any other movie Bowie realted or not, or form any of Bowie's awesome songs, I don't own it. And I'm not making money from it.**

**KK, now thats done, ON WITH THE STORY! xxx**

Sarah knelt in her cold flat, the cheap, brown carpet scratchy against her knees. Her hair, still long after four years, fell in curtains round her face as she bent her head, staring at her hands twisted in her lap.

How had it come to this, she wondered. And her mind again replayed the events of her last meeting with the Goblin King.

"You have no power over me." – her statement uttered boldly four years ago, that was the reason she was here now, her will was not as strong as his. That was the reason she was currently kneeling in her sports bra and girl boxers, shivering in a cold flat with the window open, in front of a child's model of Jareth, the Goblin King. The problem was not that she had run the Labyrinth to secure the safe return of her baby brother. She adored Toby, loved him with everything she had but at the same time she could hardly bear to look at him. He reminded her too much. Neither did the problem lie in the fact that she had moved out of her family home as soon as she was old enough, running form their company just as she had run from Jareth's offer all those years before. No, the problem lay in the fact that she had lied – You have no power over me – but this was not true. Jareth did hold power over her. He always had done. And as she had said those words, as the look of anguish had tortured his features, as he had vanished from her sight, she had felt a terrible pain well up inside her. It was a pain she had been running from ever since.

"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave" – his promise haunted her to this day. What had she sacrificed? Sarah buried her face in her hands and wept. The hot tears scalded her cold cheeks as her body trembled with a combination of cold and grief. She wished she was brave enough to stop the pain – jump into a river or draw a cool knife across her wrists, letting the hot blood stain the water in her wash hand basin. But she knew she couldn't do it. Knew she didn't have the guts.

Jareth sat in his throne room, hunched over his crystal, staring at Sarah. He loved her and hated her in equal measures. She had hurt him, badly. He had atken a long time to recover and during the whole time the Labyrinth had wept. The Labyrinth now wanted to be appeased, and now, Jareth was more powerful then ever. The crystal distorted the image, meaning that Jareth could not get a good idea of what Sarah looked like now. But he hoped it wouldn't be too long until he was finding out. Suddenly Jareth leaned forward. Sarah was weeping.

Sarah gasped in breathes, the sorrow welling inside her. She couldn't take anymore. She glowered at the figure of Jareth before picking it up and bringing it close to her face.

"See the power you have over me?" She sobbed at it. "Do you see?"

On the other side of the crystal Jareth tensed. "Say it," he hissed, "come on darling Sarah, you can say it."

"Yes Jareth," Sarah sobbed, "I was wrong, I lied. You do have power over me. And I will do anything to make it up to you. If only you would come here and save me."

In his throne room Jareth smiled. "Good girl Sarah." He threw the crystal into the air, vanishing it at the height of its arc, and then promptly disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sarah...finally."

Sarah gasped and froze. She turned slowly, hardly daring to hope that he could have returned after all that time. He was leaning languidly against the frame of the open bedroom door, watching her. Sarah jumped to her feet and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. Jareth froze for a second, taken aback by her response to his appearance, before uncertainly placing his arms round her and patting her on the back. She was freezing. Jareth placed his gloved hands on her shoulders, pushing her back so he could look into her face, searching her eyes.

"Sarah...what has happened to you?"

"You came back."

"You're freezing."

Jareth crossed to her open bedroom window, shutting it against the winter night. He gazed through the glass into the dark street outside. Without turning, he spoke.

"You asked me to save you Sarah."

Sarah blushed, shuffled her feet and looked at the ground. "Yes. Yes I did."

"It's only fair to warn you, there will be consequences. You beat me, you beat my Labyrinth. I am angry. And ancient lore decrees that I must demonstrate my power over you. You will not find it pleasant, but the Labyrinth must be appeased. However, this will pass. If you are to be my queen..."

"Your Queen?"

"Yes Sarah. From the moment you entered my Labyrinth it was only a matter of time. But that is in the past. If you are to be my queen you must undergo certain test, to prove yourself worthy before the council. Again these are not pleasant. But you must remember this. However bitter, however angry, I may seem whatever pain is caused I love you. At this moment however, demonstrating my power and authority, and appeasing the Labyrinth is more important. But when we are through this, I promise I will take you as my queen until forever, never to be parted from. Do you understand? I can be tyrannical, but the truth lies in that which I have just told you."

"I understand." Sarah swallowed, feeling more than a little apprehensive, but took comfort from the thought that nothing, no pain could be worse than that which she had endured since she was last in the underground. "May enquire as to the nature of that which I must endure?"

"Lore decrees that I cannot outline it too you lest it give you a chance to prepare yourself in some way, thus undermining the purpose of the exercise. However, I can say that my power over you must be demonstrated in every way, and that the Labyrinth would, in this world, be considered somewhat perverse in her tastes." He smiled thinly, his gaze flickering down her body, apparently noticing for the first time her state of near undress. His eyes snapped back to her face. "Now shall we go? I must present my trophy"

A pair of gold handcuffs appeared in his hands, and his smile grew wider.


	3. Chapter 3

Goblins squawked and scattered as Jareth materialised in his throne room. With him was the chained figure of a cowering girl. The champion of the Labyrinth.

"Behold." Called Jareth. "The Labyrinth is once more whole. I have avenged her and brought the criminal back for punishment."

The goblins whooped and cackled, chasing chickens and exploding in their excitement.

"SILENCE." Thundered Jareth. Into the ensuing silence his voice echoed ominously. "Prepare the tower. It will be needed tonight." With a great deal of noise the goblins left the room. Finally Jareth and Sarah were left alone. Jareth raised a hand and an elaborate hair piece appeared between his gloved fingers. He manipulated Sarah until she was standing with her back to him. Carefully, he began to tie back her hair, fingers brushing over her temples, breath ghosting on her neck.

Sarah shivered. Having Jareth so near did amazing things inside her. She could almost feel her stomach flip over and her womb clench in anticipation. She realised in that moment that she adored Jareth with every pore of her being, whatever he had in store for her. And then his hands and his breath were gone from her skin.

"There's a scrubbing brush and a bucket in the corner. Clean this room. Go."

Sarah stared at him in dismay. She had hoped he would at least give her a small amount of time to settle in and become accustomed to her new surroundings. The room was filthy. Chicken droppings and grime covered the floor. The look in his eye cowed her protest however, and instead she lowered her eyes and said meekly-

"May I at least have some clothes, Your Majesty?"

Jareth's eyes flickered slowly down her near naked body, drinking it in. His eyes rested on her now full breasts, and he wished they weren't held so firmly from his view. She blushed under his firm gaze. He smiled at her obvious discomfort. "No." He stated flatly. Striding to her he spun her round and landed a stinging slap from his gloved hand across her bum. "Go now." He growled. "Before I change my mind. You're already overdressed."

Eyes watering, but with the heat from the slap inexplicably travelling to her stomach, running down to pool between her legs, Sarah began her task.

Jareth lounged on his throne, enjoying the sight of Sarah on her hands and knees, pert arse, barely covered by her skimpy boxers, in the air as she worked. Jareth watched and considered the possibilities. He decided on what tomorrow's task would be. The same as today, but with a twist, he decided. Let's push Sarah a bit, today was a bit too easy, he decided. He watched her arse jiggle in time with her scrubbing, hand drifting lazily to his crotch, squeezing himself through the material of his outrageously tight trousers. A thin film of sweat grew on Sarah's chest.

At last, and it seemed after an eternity to Sarah, although she had barely completed half the room, Jareth stood and beckoned her over. He ran a gloved finger down her chest, dipping between her breasts to where the sweat had gathered most. Sarah gasped and her eyes flickered shut. Jareth laughed coldly at her reaction. Watching her closely all the time, he raised his finger to his mouth, tasting her sweat. Again Sarah felt the heat beginning to pool between her legs. Jareth smiled again, giving Sarah the impression that he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.

He reached out a hand and the gold handcuffs appeared again. "It's time to go to tower now Sarah," he stated, wrapping the cold metal round her wrists. He indicated that she should follow him out of the throne room into a small antechamber. In the middle of the floor was a circular disk, perhaps two and a half feet in diameter. Jareth stepped onto it.

"Step on here, put your hands round my neck to steady yourself, and hold on tight." Sarah hesitated a moment as she realised that in order for them both to fit on the platform she would have to press every inch of herself up against him. It was not that she did not want to be close to him, she loved his smell and the auror of magic that he emitted, but she did not want him to be able to feel her like that. She had never had a proper boyfriend, and she was scared of what Jareth might do. His next look however, was so forceful that it forced her to obey. Grudgingly she stepped on to the disk, lifting her cuffed hands and placing them round his neck at the same time as trying to hold her body away from him, to maintain some sense of decency.

Jareth smiled and slid his arm round her waist, running his hands downwards until he grasped her bum, forcing the centres of their bodies together. Sarah gasped when she felt his package push against her, she did not know much about the matter but she was sure that he was not human sized down there. Jareth brought his lips to her ear.

"You seem to be becoming reluctant and disobedient already. When you return to the throne room to complete your task tomorrow, we will have to see that the disobedience does not continue." Jareth's breath tickled her ear. Sarah shuddered at his words, knowing that she should feel scared, but instead wanting to press even closer against Jareth. Forcefully, she held herself back. She would not give him the satisfaction. Not yet anyway.

The disk juddered and began to rise, carrying them up through the castle to the tallest tower. Sarah clung to Jareth, keeping her eyes fixed on his face lest she should look down and faint. They were carried up and up, through many different and ornate rooms, whose floors seemed to shift effortlessly to allow them through. After what seemed like hours, they arrived.

As the hole in floor through which they arrived sealed itself, Sarah had a chance to look around her. The tower room looked something like an old fashioned torture chamber, although none of the instruments quite matched up with those depicted in her school history book. Facing a comfortable looking armchair was a large, flat, metal board, angled at forty five degrees from the ground. There were chains in each corner, the bottom two with foot rests, the top two with metal bar handles. High wooden cupboards adorned the walls, and Sarah shuddered to think what they might hold. Jareth turned to her.

"You are tired?" Sarah nodded her head. Her muscles were aching from the time she had spent scrubbing the floor in the throne room. "And you need a wash." This time it was a statement, but Sarah nodded anyway, she was sticky from the sweat that had collected during her exertions. Jareth clapped his hands and two goblins appeared carrying an old fashioned metal bath tub, which they proceeded to fill with warm water. Jareth settled himself in the armchair, crossed one ankle across his lap and looked pointedly at her. Sarah did not move.

"Well," Jareth raised one eyebrow, "there is your bath."

"But...but," Sarah spluttered.

"Oh forgive me, your handcuffs." In one smooth motion Jareth rose and, crossing to where she stood, removed the cuffs. Having done so he settled himself back in the chair. Sarah seemed to be considering something.

"Could you at least turn your back?" she queried hopefully.

"No." Was his simple response. "I must demonstrate my power over you."

Sarah gritted her teeth. She hated, not him, but the old lore that meant that neither she nor Jareth had much choice in this matter. Reluctantly Sarah turned her back to Jareth and started to unclip her sports bra. She may have to do this, but she didn't have to do it willingly, nor did she have to look at him, or make it easy. She would not give him that satisfaction. She decided that the best course of action would be to mechanically obey him, thus perhaps avoiding worse ordeals later on. She let the bra fall to the ground and covered her chest with one arm, using the other hand to help push her boxers down her legs, kicking them off. She heard Jareth sigh as her bum was revealed to him and, despite the immense feeling of embarrassment; she was also a little pleased that he seemed to enjoy the sight. Side stepping over to the bath, she slid in and quickly began to rub herself clean, trying to get it over with as soon as possible.

Jareth did not mind that she had managed to get into the bath without him seeing her front; neither did he mind that the sides of the bath currently blocked her from his view. There would be plenty of time for looking later.

Sarah finished her bath in record time and cast round for a towel with which to dry herself. Jareth saw her look and answered it.

"There are no towels. You can drip dry." He smiled a wolfish smile. "If we spread your limbs, even the trickiest areas can be rid of the bath water. Now, time to get out of your lovely bath."

He stood and crossed over to her, looking down into the bath. Sarah's hands flew to cover herself and, ignoring his outstretched hand, she clambered inelegantly to her feet. Jareth's eyes followed the path of a droplet that coursed down her side, following the V shape her hips made with her stomach, until it disappeared under her hand.

"You will sleep in here tonight. On the board. I can't risk you running off before the council have inspected you. You will not have night dress." Jareth looked her in the eye, but she couldn't meet his gaze. So he was going to see her after all. She had wondered why he had not complained when she had kept herself from his view previously. He reached out and took hold of her hands, prising them away from her body. His gaze seemed to darken as he stared at her naked form. He licked his lips.

"My, Sarah," his voice sounded a little choked, "you've certainly changed since we last met." He sounded pleased and impressed, as though he approved of what he saw. With an effort he pulled his eyes back up to her face. "Now, let me help you onto the board. You will not be terribly comfortable I'm afraid, but do try to rest; you have a lot more cleaning to do tomorrow. And do mind that you do better than today."

So saying he put his arms round her, lifting her slightly off the ground. Holding her in one arm he raised her hand to the handle, clipping the chains shut round her wrist. He raised her other arm and clipped it in too. Involuntarily, Sarah crossed her legs, reluctant to open them in front of her. Jareth did not comment. He merely stepped back, allowing her to hang from her spread arms until she could no longer hold her weight herself and sought the foot rests on her own. Jareth clipped her legs onto the board. Sarah was now completely spread-eagled, half lying down, and completely naked. She felt incredibly vulnerable, and could not meet Jareth's eye. Jareth stepped back and looked at her appraisingly.

"My, Sarah. There's a sight to tempt any man. Do not fear however. I would not have full carnal knowledge of you until our wedding night."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. At least her first time would be in a kind, loving environment. Jareth stepped up to her again.

"I need to determine something however. You may find this embarrassing. I know from my crystal you have never been with a man, however..." Jareth tailed off. He went to one of the cupboards and produced a thin metal cylinder with a bulb on the end. Sarah tensed, wondering what was coming next. Jareth sought to reassure her. "Do not be alarmed, this is merely the underground equivalent of a torch. It has a glowing crystal in one end." He showed her by cupping one gloved hand over the end.

Jareth crouched in front of her and looked up. From this position he had a very clear view of her most intimate area. Sarah struggled against her bonds, desperate to close her legs, but the chains had no give in them at all. Jareth stretched up one hand.

"Jareth, please. No." Sarah begged with him, but he silenced her with a glance. As his fingers reached her she felt a surge of warmth spread through her like fire, making her gasp. Her skin flushed red and a heady dizziness over came her. Gently, Jareth further parted her lips and raised the torch like device to illuminate the area more fully. He gazed intently for a few moments.

"Did you participate in gymnastics, or perhaps horse riding as a child?" he queried.

"Yes, I was in the local gym's children's squad for six months." Sarah couldn't understand why he was suddenly so interested.

"Hmm, yes. I ask because although you are a virgin your maiden head – or hymen – has already been broken. That will suit our purposes very well." Jareth was still gazing intently at Sarah.

"What purposes?" Sarah sounded scared again.

"Now, now Sarah. You know I am not permitted to tell you what lies ahead." Again Jareth raised a finger. He brought it down gently on her throbbing clit, pressing before pinching it once between thumb and forefinger. Sarah nearly screamed as waves of pleasure pulsed through her. And then it was over. Jareth straightened and headed for the door.

"Good night my dear," he said as he closed the door behind him. And, taken aback by his abrupt departure, Sarah was left alone with her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah did not sleep well that night. Though she was not cold, the metal board was hard beneath her back and the chains restricted her movement to only a few centimetres. For a long time she hung, staring straight ahead and thinking. Despite the humiliation that she had under gone at the hands of the Goblin King, Sarah was overjoyed to find herself out of the dreary, monotonous life that she had been living in since her return from the Labyrinth four years before. Her readings as a child had told her enough for her to understand something of the complex workings of underground politics. And she was aware that not only was the Labyrinth itself alive, but that it was intrinsically linked to Jareth himself. The old lore left little room for negotiation, so Sarah accepted that she would have to bear the present, and look forward to the future.

Sarah sighed and let her mind wander towards that future. A wedding, herself as Queen, numerous wonderful possibilities waiting to be fulfilled after she was accepted by the Labyrinth and council. She thought of Jareth's earlier comment about her disobedience. The Labyrinth must have questioned her loyalty to its King. It would expect her to prove this through some demonstration of love or devotion. She wondered what the task would be. There were many terrifying tings in the underworld that he could ask or to do, or many forms of humiliation, both private and public. She sincerely hoped that whatever lay in store for her, she would not be separated from her King. She felt she could stand anything, if only he was with her. Worries began to fill her head and with them came fears of the up and coming assessment from the Underground council. What would they want to know? What if she failed? What would happen to her then? Would she be cast into the bog, or left to rot in some prison cell? Perhaps she would be banished to a far corner of the Labyrinth, meaning she only saw Jareth on the rare occasions that he visited his kingdom. Or, and she shuddered at this prospect, perhaps she would be sent back to the overground, to resume her life as though nothing had occurred. Sarah did not think that she would be able to stand that. But if she passed...oh how she longed to pass. A life time with her Goblin King, her rescuer, the man who had enslaved her with his mere force of personality and charisma four years ago.

Sarah must have dozed off dreaming of Jareth, for the next thing she was aware of was the cold light of dawn, creeping its way from the narrow window across the floor, fingers caressing slowly further up her body as the surreal underground light began to grow.


	5. Chapter 5

Jareth paced his room, deep lines furrowing his brow. His mind was in turmoil over the current situation. One the one hand there was Sarah. Oh beautiful Sarah, who had a body that could...that could...he found himself unable to think of an appropriate metaphor. He did not want to say "turn any man's head" as he did want any other man to look at his Sarah, ever again. He had examined her because he had needed to know if her hymen was intact to see if his plan for tomorrow was possible. If it had been, he would have devised another scheme, unwillingly to break it in some artificial way. But it was already broken. That would suit him fine.

But oh, when he had examined her. The sight of her laid bare before him. Those breasts, so much grown from the last time he had seen her, were begging for his hands and mouth. And when he had crouched to look inside her...he had not realised until that point the effect he himself had one her. But the dampness, the scent, it had been unmistakeable. And he had wanted her at that moment. Wanted her like he had never wanted any of the women with whom he had had casual sex. He had desired her. He had wanted to see her fulfilled, not merely to fulfil himself. Jareth shook his head to try and clear his thoughts.

He wanted to protect her from all harm. But then there was the Labyrinth, with whom he was intrinsically linked. What it felt, he felt. He it was pleased, he shouted with joy. When, it was melancholy, he wept bitter tears. And when it was angry...he knew that he could not deny it penance. It would hurt too deeply. At least he suspected that Sarah cared enough for him that she would not bear any grudge against him, he hoped that was the case. Although perhaps a little payback would not be out of the question...

Calm yourself, Jareth told himself firmly. At present you are devising penance for Sarah tomorrow. Jareth paused in his pacing beside an elaborate dresser that stood against one wall of the gilt room in which he slept. Opening one of the draws he withdrew a locked box. Pressing his finger to the catch he shut his eyes and murmured a few words in a language unknown to humans. The lock clicked. Jareth lifted the lid and verified the contents. He had known this device would come in useful; otherwise the Labyrinth would not have bothered to make it. It seemed a fitting way to demonstrate power over Sarah in any case.

Jareth snapped the lid shut and replaced it in the draw. He crossed to the elaborate four poster and, kicking off his boots he settled himself on top of the covers, hands behind his head. He wondered vaguely if Sarah was alright. Was she worried? He couldn't tell her that she could not fail the council's tests, but at least he could use the knowledge as comfort to himself. Soon they would be wed, and this whole problem would be behind them. The Labyrinth growled in his mind, after you've been satisfied of course, he added. He felt the Labyrinth relax around him once more. Unbidden an image of Sarah swam into his head. She was in the throne room, scrubbing the floor as she had earlier that day. Only this time she was not concealed from him by annoying human under clothes. Jareth felt his body stir and considered calling a maid to relieve him, but decided against it. He did not want to spoil the illusion that Sarah was right in front of him. Fixing on the image, making the imaginary Sarah scrub harder, arse jiggling faster in the process, Jareth reached his hand down and started stroking and stimulating in time with the scrub scrub of Sarah's brush. When he came he simply magicked the mess away and rolled over. He was tired after the day of excitement and soon he was asleep. When he next awoke, dawn was creeping cautiously over the castle.


	6. Chapter 6

As the dawn grew brighter Jareth rose and crossed to stand before his window. He looked out at the Goblin City and, beyond it stretching as far as the eye could see his Labyrinth lay before him. He smiled his thin lipped smile, mismatched eyes noting the flicker of movement as the first of the Goblin Wives began to gather in the square, hoping to be next to receive an unwanted human child. Well, Jareth thought grimly, any person foolish enough to run his Labyrinth today would have to do without the help and encouragement he usually gave. He stretched and crossed to his dresser, removing the box he had examined the night before he vanished from the room.

Sarah was starting to think Jareth had forgotten her. The light had crept all the way up her naked body, blinding her before attaining enough height in the sky so as not to shine directly into her eyes. And still Jareth hadn't returned. Following his abrupt departure of the night before, she began to wonder if she had failed in some way in the reaction she gave to his touching her. What should she have done? How should she have responded? Although part of her wanted him to stay away for good, so that she didn't have to bear the feeling of his eyes as they hungrily devoured her body, the rational part of her maintained that someone would have to see her like this again sometime, even if she was just a skeleton when they did. So it might as well be now rather than later. She cursed Jareth under her breath. How could he leave her like this? She swore loudly.

"Language, my dear." Jareth's smug tones issued from behind her and she craned her head to try and see where he was but she couldn't get the angle.

"Come where I can see you," she demanded. "Or no, even better, let me down from here so that I can come and throttle you."

"That would not seem a prudent course of action on my part," Jareth mused, walking slowly round the board so that she could see him. He was carrying a small wooden box between his gloved fingers. "Did you sleep?" He enquired politely.

"You know damn well that I had an awful night's sleep," Sarah retorted, still moody that he had left her there so long.

"Ah, but I did not enquire as to the nature of your sleep but merely if you had had any. No matter, my question is answered. You slept. Yes....and perhaps you dreamt?" Sarah looked down, avoiding his gaze. Jareth's smile broadened. "Of me? I know I thought of you. Lying here. Wearing...that." Jareth's eyes swept down her body.

"Look," Sarah countered, "if you cared at all you let me down from here. I've been up here for hours and I need the bloody toilet!"

"Ah Sarah, do forgive me." Jareth's voice was smooth and unembarrassed. "Unfortunately I cannot let you down just yet as I need you there for the fitting. However, I'm sure we can manage something."

Jareth looked at her inquisitorially and Sarah was convinced he was about to ask her what it was he needed. Instead however he took a few steps towards her and leant down so that his chest was pressing against hers. In any other situation Sarah felt she would have swooned from his mere closeness, but at present she was too acutely embarrassed to do anything other than screw her eyes shut and hope it was all over soon. Jareth reached round her and pressed one finger between her buttocks, and suddenly all tightness was gone.

"Simple vanishing." Jareth grinned. "You need not be embarrassed, it makes you human, and that makes you wonderful."

Sarah glowered at him.

"And as for the other..." Jareth reached into thin air and grasped a small glass which he pressed up between her thighs. Sarah was so ashamed to have him witness this, but she needed too badly not to go, and who would know when she would get another chance? When she was done Jareth simply wrapped his fingers round the glass, and it was gone.

"And now the fitting," stated Jareth.

"What fitting?" Sarah enquired. She felt that for some reason it sounded ominous.

"You were slow and disobedient yesterday. The Labyrinth and I were displeased. You will pay the price. Today as you finish cleaning the throne room, you will where this." Jareth flipped open the box he had brought with him and drew out an instrument of a dullish metal that Sarah did not recognise. Its main body was a curve, with a slot running from one end to approximately a quarter of the way down on the inside. Just below this was a short protrusion, perhaps about three inches long, and slightly curved. A short distance behind this was a second protrusion, a little shorter and straighter. The outside of the curve was smooth and flat.

"It's made of a Labyrinthian metal," Jareth explained, "as such it is linked to the Labyrinth, and therefore to me. I have some control of it with my mind. Hopefully it should teach you to mind your manners, do as you're told and show proper respect."

Sarah looked at it doubtfully, uncertain what it would do.

"I am going to fit it now," Jareth said, "the process may be a little uncomfortable. And it will involve me touching you. A lot. It will be easier if you are somewhat lubricated. I do not have artificial lubricant here."

Sarah braced herself for what was to come as Jareth slowly removed his gloves. His fingers were long, and very pale due to the lack of sunlight they received. Jareth spun round and leaned down over Sarah. He captured her lips with his, forcing them apart and plunging his tongue into her mouth. His hands caressed Sarah's thighs and she could feel the magic like static in his finger tips. Sarah moaned into his mouth. She had never been kissed like this before and the feeling of being kissed the person she most adored and worshipped, Jareth, King of the Goblins, was simply the hottest thing she could imagine. As his tongue massaged hers she felt his hands creep round to the inside of her thighs and move up. And then his hands were there, one stimulating her throbbing clit and the other pushing gently at her opening. Sarah let out a long, low groan as two of Jareth's magic filled fingers pushed inside her, seeking out that spot that caused her to break the kiss, clench her fists and gasp. No-one had ever made her fell like this before. And suddenly it was over. Jareth withdrew his fingers and stepped back, looking with satisfaction at her pussy, which was now slick with her juices. Sarah blinked and shook her head, trying to refocus.

Jareth stooped to retrieve the device from where it lay on the stone floor. He laid it against Sarah's stomach, demonstrating to her that despite its metallic appearance, it was not cold to the touch. Jareth frowned for a moment in recollection; it had been a long time since he'd applied this. Carefully, he took her hardened clit between thumb and forefinger, causing Sarah to gasp again. He slid it into the opening at the top end of the slot, moving the device down until the first protrusion was roughly level with her opening. Running his fingers along her opening he collected enough of her juice to sufficiently lubricate the second protrusion before pushing the first into her opening. Jareth reached an arm round behind her and gently rubbed down between her buttocks, until he was touching her second, puckered hole. Very gently he shifted the device until the second protrusion was pushing at Sarah's back entrance. Slowly, he inserted it, pushing hard so that both protrusions shifted deeper into Sarah. Sarah felt her internal muscles involuntarily clap round the alien object. The device now fitted snugly within Sarah's pussy lips.

Jareth stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. "How does it feel? He enquired.

"Strange," Sarah gasped, struggling to get used to the invading feeling. "But not uncomfortable." She added as an afterthought.

"We'll see." Was all Jareth said in reply. "Now, would you like to get down?" He queried, a smile playing round his lips.

Sarah could feel her muscles aching after hours of remaining in the same position. She nodded. Carefully, Jareth unclipped one of her wrists, placing her hand on his shoulder so that she could steady herself. He unclipped the other. As he unclipped her ankles Sarah was careful to keep both feet on the steps so that she wouldn't fall. Once she was free Jareth pulled her forward so her back no longer touched the board. The movement caused the device to shift slightly. It tightened on her clit and shifted inside her, causing her to go weak and flop forwards onto Jareth, who deftly caught her. He laughed.

"Yes my dear, it will take some getting used to. But let's not forget that you have a throne room to clean."

Sarah tried to move again, and again the device shifted. Sarah clutched Jareth's shoulders and he laughed even more.

"Hurry up my dear; you have a lot of work to get done." Jareth's voice was starting to sound dangerous. He prised her hands off his shoulders and stepped back, allowing Sarah to slip down to huddle in a heap on the floor. She held still for a few moments, allowing the intense feeling within her, caused by the movement of the device, to dissipate, and concentrated on slowing down her breathing. Each time Sarah tried to clamber to her feet, the movement caused the device to shift and move against her sensitive inner walls, also applying pressure to her clit. Sarah could hardly stand the sensations they were so intense. She had never experienced feelings like these before, as Jareth had well known when he had decided to use the device on her, and she had no idea how to deal with them. Furthermore, it was clear that Jareth was quickly becoming impatient of her inability to do anything than sit still and quiver. The next time Sarah attempted to get to her feet and fell again as the feelings over came her, Jareth shut his eyes and pain shot through Sarah, causing her already flowing juices to run harder. She had been electrocuted, up there inside her by the first protrusion that sat snugly in her vagina. Sarah rolled on to her hands and knees panting.

"Get up, now," Jareth commanded. "I don't want to have to do that again." Leaning down he slipped an arm round her waist and hauled her to her feet. The device shifted and Sarah cried out, but Jareth held her firm. Sarah's knees were shaking so badly that she had to hang on to Jareth to keep from falling down again, but at least she was now on her feet. "Come, we go to the throne room."

The sensation of walking with device inside her was almost too much to bear, but Jareth held her firmly, forcing her to keep close to his side. Once, Sarah had nearly stumbled and the first protrusion had withdrawn slightly, before slamming in so hard and far that it hit her cervix at the bottom of her womb, causing her to double over in pain. Jareth's pace was relentless as he led her down through the castle, not taking the lift disk of the previous night. They met nobody, and in a brief lucid moment Sarah decided that this was probably due to Jareth's jealousy. He would not want others to see her naked, especially not in this quivering state resulting from stimulation without release.

Jareth pressed the quivering, naked girl to his side as he manhandled her through the castle. Her nipples were taught and the inside of her thighs were gleaming with juices. Jareth new that with each step the device shifted, stimulating nerves that Sarah had never even knew existed, invading spaces Sarah had never thought would be invaded in such a way. The thought that it was him causing her to be this way turned him on so much that he was glad Sarah could not register his own condition of readiness, and thankful that his magic could help him conceal it from her. He glanced down at the girl he held to his side, noting the way her sweat damp breasts swayed and the look that mixed pleasure with pain plastered across her face. But he would not let her come. Her first orgasm was to be brought about by him inside her, no other way. This was a torture she would just have to endure. Jareth sighed slightly and connected with the Labyrinth, loosening and shrinking the device a little, relieving some of the pressure, he could always crank it up again later.

The pressure on Sarah eased off somewhat they eventually reached the throne room, although the effort of walking with device rubbing inside her still required much effort on Sarah's part. In the throne room Jareth pulled Sarah to the centre of the room and let go of her.

"Go and fetch your scrubbing brush and bucket. Then get to work," Jareth growled in her ear.

Sarah started to cross the room but as she did so she distinctly felt both protrusions thrust inside her. She stopped, trying to fight the trembling of her knees. Sharp pain hit her cervix as an electric current hit it with force.

"You will keep working, whatever you feel. Or you will be punished." Sweating and staggering, Sarah retrieved her cleaning equipment and returned to where Jareth was standing. He smiled thinly down at her, his eyes dark pools of lust.

"I have complete and utter dominance over you," he snarled. "What do I have?" Sarah felt the device inside her shift and twist, causing a spasm to cross her face.

"Complete....and utter...dominance...over me," she managed to gasp.

"Good," crooned Jareth. "Now clean." He spat. He spun Sarah round and pressed her back to him, hands covering her breasts. Gently he bent her forward, pressing his package against her arse cheeks, pushing her to the very brink before withdrawing just enough to make sure she couldn't release. Sarah moaned. He pushed her down to her hands and knees, kneeling behind her and holding on to her hips, pushing himself hard against her. The second protrusion swelled slightly in a basic simulation of what he was acting. Sarah panted hard, feeling her arms shaking and her internal muscles stretch. And then Jareth was gone. Getting to his feet he crossed to his throne, settling himself there. He smiled at her. Sarah began to scrub.

At first Sarah found the work very hard indeed. Her muscles were aching and every time she moved the device shifted, sending bolts of...of...of something straight through her. But after a while she started to settle into a rhythm. She found that if she concentrated hard on the scum and the rhythmic scrub of her brush, she could almost blot out the feel of the device inside her, and the painful throbbing she was experiencing down there. What was harder to block out was the heat of Jareth's gaze as his eyes followed her swinging, unsupported breasts, the sweat dripping from her and the movement of her amazing, and today bare, arse. It was perhaps a good thing that Sarah did not notice Jareth's hand as he gently stroked himself in time with Sarah's brushing.

After a while Jareth began to grow bored. While he felt he could sit and watch naked Sarah scrubbing all day, the point of the device was to make things better, and the Labyrinth thought he should make the most of it. All of a sudden then he sent it a message to tighten painfully round her clit and as she collapsed he sent a wave of electricity through the first protrusion, a clear signal to get up and keep working. Jareth grinned outright as he observed the reaction that this created. He thought for a moment. Suddenly Sarah felt the second protrusion start to grow hot. She squirmed and dropped her brush but another flow of electricity inside her vagina made her pick up her brush and do her best to keep working. When she thought she could bare the heat no longer it suddenly stopped, to be replace by a freezing sensation which caused the muscle of her rectum to spasm and tighten round the invading piece of metal. Sarah cried out, earning another bolt of electricity, and she realised that whatever happened she was not allowed to make a noise.

Jareth could see the sweat dripping off Sarah onto the floor of the throne room and he squeezed himself a little harder. Her breasts were jiggling madly as she fought for breath, trying to keep scrubbing at the same time. As she crawled along the floor she left a trail of her juices behind her as they dripped from her soaking entrance.

Sarah fought the feelings the device was generating. She was so humiliated that Jareth could see her as this quivering wreck. She felt so powerless against him and new that if she dared defy she would suffer for it. She tried to sneak a glance at him but as her head started to raise she collapsed again as another wave of electricity shot through her, this time attacking her throbbing clit. She moaned and pulled herself back to her hands and knees. Trying to continue scrubbing. The world swam before her eyes. Slowly, Sarah keeled over sideways from the exhaustion of trying to work while Jareth manipulated the devise.

Jareth climbed languidly to his feet. She had hasted longer than he had expected, she had done well. And the Labyrinth had thoroughly enjoyed it. He crossed to where she lay. As he stood looking down at her he sent a couple of bolts of electricity into her and she moaned and her eyelids flickered, but she did not wake. Carefully Jareth picked her up in his arms and vanished with her back to the tower room.


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah awoke to the sensation of Jareth bathing her tortured flesh with a cool cloth. It was soothing and pleasurable so she smiled, a contented sigh escaping her lips. As Jareth wiped the last of her juices from her thighs she became aware that she was lying on something soft, and that the device had been removed. Her eyes flickered open.

"Good evening my dear, do you feel refreshed?" Jareth's voice was smooth and calm, taking no account of what he had put her through.

Sarah frowned. "Yes, I do feel refreshed, but how..."

"You have been asleep for many hours."

Sarah jumped to her feet. But that would mean the throne room was not finished and she would be punished again. Jareth pushed her gently back down onto the narrow bed that now stood against one wall of the tower room.

"No, don't worry. That punishment was completed; the Labyrinth was pleased with you. Now you must rest. I have business with the council that I must attend to. I must arrange your assessment. Sleep well my dear." Jareth pulled the covers up over Sarah, smoothing them down before leaning forward and kissing her gently on the forehead. He rose and left. Sarah heard the click of a lock before his footsteps retreated. Sarah was left alone with her thoughts. She wondered briefly what the assessment may involve, before deciding that there was no point worrying, she had survived thus far, and she would have the man of her dreams there to support her through any trail the council sent her way. She smiled when she thought of Jareth. Yes, he had thought up some terrible humiliations for her since she had arrived in the underground, but she could tell that underlying his fierce exterior, he really did care for her. And this knowledge made her heart sing. With this thought in her mind, Sarah drifted off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys. Thanks for the reviews, they really keep me going. Please keep them coming! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Love you all. xxx**

On returning from the council Jareth flew straight to the tower window, his greyish white wings spread wide, the currents of air causing up drafts that let him soar over his Labyrinth. The Labyrinth felt him passing overhead and welcomed him with warmth through the night. Jareth's heart sang as he soared and he called his joy across his kingdom in a long drawn shriek. Effortlessly he circled the tower, slowing his decent before coming into land with a small clatter on the stone sill.

Sarah was awakened by a gentle tapping at the window. For a few moments she lay still listening. The word Nevermore replayed in her head as she was reminded of the poem they had once read in school. Sleepily she rolled over in bed to glance at the window. There, blocking out the silvery moonlight was a beautifully handsome grey owl, its imperious eyes fixed demandingly on her. Shivering slightly as her bare feet touched the cold stone of the floor, Sarah rose, realising for the first time that she was wearing a thin diaphanous night dress that fell almost to her ankles. Wrapping her arms around herself she crossed to the window and tugged at the latch. It was stiff and heavy, and the owl had to hop back a little as she jerkily managed to open it. The owl stalked inside, and paused for a moment before stepping off the sill and turning smoothly into the Goblin King. Sarah stepped back and gasped.

"Good evening, my dear," Jareth welcomed silkily, "it is a beautiful night, is it not?"

Sarah nodded, struck dumb with awe anew at the charismatic figure that Jareth struck. Reaching up, he pulled a single grey feather from his hair and leaning towards Sarah, he pushed it down the front of her nightdress, between her breasts. It tickled deliciously and Sarah could not help but giggle slightly at the feeling. She smiled shyly at Jareth, before stepping forwards and wrapping her arms round his narrow waist. Jareth enveloped her in his powerful arms, made strong from all the flying he did, and looked down at her indulgently. Sarah pulled back slightly, seeking his eyes with hers.

"Did you meet with the council?" she asked him.

He nodded, taking her by the hands and leading her to sit on the edge of the bed, wrapping her in the blanket for he had seen she was starting to shiver.

"Yes I did. I have just returned from the negotiations. It was difficult to change their minds you see, that is why it took so long. The problem was that in the underground it is considered proper for any person who is to sleep with a King to undergo what they call in your world female circumcision."

Sarah gasped, looking terrified. Female circumcision was not only considered completely barbaric, but was also highly illegal in all civilised countries in her own world. The only people who still carried it out were native tribes. Involuntarily Sarah's legs pressed together in an instinctive attempt at preservation. Jareth wrapped his arm round her waist and sought to reassure her.

"Do not worry, my sweetheart." He kissed her gently in her hair. "The negotiations took so long as I refused to let this happen. I said I would not allow it. Because I want you to be able to gain as much pleasure as possible from all that we may do." At this Sarah blushed deeply. "In the end the only way I could persuade them was to insist you remained intact for the purposes of appeasing the Labyrinth, and by making certain other compromises."

Sarah leant against his side and he tightened his arm round her, pulling her closer. "Thank you," she whispered, "what compromises?" she queried after a moment.

"Don't worry, the first part I will have complete control of." Sarah shuddered, thinking of what had passed earlier. She was not sure that this reassured her much, although she did know that she trusted Jareth, and that he would keep her safe. "The second part the council will carry out, but I will be with you at all times." He squeezed her to him again. "The questioning may be a little embarrassing, but together we can cope." He kissed the top of her head. "Now, we will get some sleep, because we must start preparations early if you are to ready to face the council tomorrow. Lie down."

Jareth gently manoeuvred Sarah until she was lying down facing the wall. Carefully, he lay down behind her, draping his arm over her waist. He kissed the back of her neck.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

"Mmmm," was Sarah's sleepy reply. She was so happy, despite what lay ahead. Jareth was lying in bed with her, being gentle and loving. She wondered what had triggered the change. And then his words came back to her.

"_Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." _Fear him? He terrified her. Love him? She adored him with all she had, worshipped him and could never get enough of him. Had she done as he had said? Yes, she was getting there. She still doubted him sometimes, but today she had given everything she had into carrying out his orders. And now it seemed to be paying dividends. She pushed back a little, until she could feel his chest against her back.

"Jareth?"

"Yes Sarah?"

"Does this mean the Labyrinth is appeased?"

Jareth shifted uncomfortably, moving slightly away from her. "Let's not talk about that now. Just get some sleep. It will be a big day tomorrow."

Sarah bit back her further questions and shut her eyes. Oh well, she thought, for now at least she could enjoy the gentle side of the Goblin King. She smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep in his embrace.

Jareth lay for a long time, simply breathing in Sarah's scent and enjoying the feel of her warm body against his. He had had to fight himself when she had shifted back against him, but was confident that he had hidden the state of his arousal from her. He listened to the gentle rhythm of her breathing, and wished that tomorrow was over, and then she would be his to do with as he liked. He smiled wickedly at the thought and shifted his hand so that it rested flat against Sarah's stomach. He remained still for a long time before he too drifted off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello. Sorry about the massive delay in my updating. Our network went down and didn't think I should upload this from my mother's computer...lol. Anyways, here i the next chapter, hope you enjoy it. Please R&R. xxx**

As the cold grey light of the underworld dawn began to creep into the tower room, Jareth eased himself away from Sarah, stood and stretched. He crossed to the window and sat on the ledge, looking out across his kingdom. On an impulse he swung his legs over the sill and jumped, letting himself plummet to within a foot of the ground before transforming into an owl and soaring round the tower. He flew up so high that his breath was snatched away and his screech was lost in the howl of the wind. Wheeling, he turned and plummeted back to earth, pulling out of the dive just in time, talons catching at the surface of the loch that lay in the castle grounds. Jareth landed and shook the droplets from his magnificent feathers before taking off again and streaking back to the tower, and his Sarah.

Sarah awoke and blearily reached behind her, searching for Jareth. When she could not find him she rolled over, seeing the emptiness of the bed. Something tickled her. Sarah reached down the inside of her nightdress and pulled out the long grey feather that Jareth had stuck there after his arrival last night. Sarah smiled and raised it to her lips, kissing it. It tickled her which she liked, so she ran it gently between her lips, closing her eyes and inhaling the distinctly Jareth scent that clung to it.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jareth's voice was amused. Sarah's eyes snapped open. He was sitting astride the stone window ledge, one leg in the room, and the other dangling in nothingness. Sarah shuddered at the thought of the long drop down the side of the tower wall. Jareth laughed at her look of fear, but swung his leg over the ledge, standing to straighten his clothes.

"Good morning my dear." He crossed to her and ran his hands down her arms. Sarah grinned at him shyly. Suddenly Jareth snapped to action. "We have a lot to prepare before you meet the council. You must eat first I think. Goblins?" he called. A small Goblin meandered into the room, brushing chicken feathers off its hairy tunic. Sarah realised it was the first goblin she had seen since her arrival. "Some food for Sarah...and make it something edible."

The goblin grumbled up at Jareth looking sulky. "Well, get on with it. " Jareth bellowed at it. The goblin hesitated just a moment too long and Jareth send a flying kick in its direction, sending it flying neatly back out the door. He laughed at Sarah's look of concern. "Don't worry about him. You see they like it really. That's why they grumble, they know it results in a kick. Just like a kid in your world who knows it will get a sweet if it behaves." Sarah joined his laughter. "Right," Jareth turned to her, "better get the device fitted again while we wait, which will mean I can prepare things while you eat. No, don't worry," he added seeing the look of alarm on Sarah's face, "it's there for an entirely different function from yesterday. Although," he added after a moment's thought, "it's still probably not going to be very comfortable. You see," he continued, "one of the conditions on which I got you off with the whole circumcision aspect was that I make absolutely sure that you are thoroughly cleansed, both inside and out. I have to admit also, that the Labyrinth will not pass up this opportunity of getting her own back."

He smiled at Sarah and she smiled weakly back. To be honest, she was really very nervous about this, but when Jareth indicated to her that she should get onto the board she straightened her back and walked resolutely across to him.

"And Sarah my dear," he added, "you will need to remove your nightdress." He leered at her, looking forward to seeing and touching her body again. With an air of resignation, Sarah lifted the nightdress over her head, flinching as the heat of Jareth's gaze burned her skin. Jareth lifted one of Sarah's feet onto the foot rest, pushing his knee between her legs to separate them before lifting the other foot up and strapping them in.

"Do I need to strap your arms in," he enquired, "or can I trust you to hold on and not try anything stupid?"

"I won't do anything," Sarah assured him.

Jareth stared into her eyes for a few moments before nodding his acceptance. This time he was much gentler. He brushed his mouth across Sarah's, pulling away before any real contact was made. His breath ghosted across Sarah's lips as she moved her head forward in an attempt to follow him. Jareth did not react externally, but inside he was singing. She wanted to kiss him and be close to him. He lifted his hand and placed it on Sarah's cheek, his lips barely a centimetre from hers. He ran his hand down her neck, down the side of her breast, down her waist and all the way to her thigh. His hand slipped round the back and up to cup her bum, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her breath hitched. He knew he wouldn't have to do much more, but oh he was going to find it to stop. He wanted her here and now. Ever so gently he slipped his hand between her legs and felt the damp that had gathered around her entrance. She moaned slightly and tried to press further into his hand. This was nearly his undoing. Hastily he removed his hand, placing it at her waist. He leant his forehead against her's and held her until his breathing began to slow. Regretfully he tore himself away and went to fetch the device. Trying not to think too much about her proximity, the intimate way he was touching her, the little gasps she was making or the overpowering scent of her arousal, he bent and began positioning the device. He shook his head to try and clear it, for some reason he was finding much harder to control his emotions. After a few moments he thankfully stepped away.

As Jareth stepped away he realised his hands were very wet. He looked at them confused. He had made sure that she had only been just wet enough to take the device. He looked at her. Sarah was writhing and whimpering, clearly on the very edge of orgasm. Hastily Jareth tuned into the device, trying to discover what was going on. He would not let her cum for the first time without him inside her. Then he realised what had happened. The devise was pulsing, shifting and vibrating in her and around her, in time with his ragged breathing. Jareth cursed, and setting his mind to the task he stilled it, shrinking it to the smallest size it could go, removing all the pressure. Sarah moaned at the loss of the sensations within her, sagging forward and barely managing to hold on with her hands. Jareth quickly realised her ankles and caught her as she flopped forward onto him. Together they slumped to the floor, Jareth soothing and stroking Sarah's flushed cheeks, cradling her until the tides of passion began to web away. She was shaking uncontrollably so he rose and collected the blanket off the bed, wrapping her in it and smoothing her hair away from her sweat damp forehead.

Sarah's world was spinning. To have been so close to Jareth, to have felt the force of his passion, to have been taken right to the edge only to be denied at the last possible second – it was torture of the most exquisite kind. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Jareth's concerned gaze met hers.

"You OK," he asked and his voice sounded shaken. Sarah nodded but wondered. If that build up was anything to go by, would she ever be able to stand it when he took her all the way. And the pain of not being able to finish... She looked up at him wonderingly.

The moment was broken when the door banged open and the grumbling goblin appeared again, this time carrying a tray with a mug and a bowl on it.

"Fetch this fetch that," muttered the goblin, "all for his highness. I don't know, what is the underworld coming to?"

He thumped the tray down and stumped out looking hopefully at Jareth, who merely waved him away. The goblin left looking crestfallen. Gently, trying not to shift the device too much, Jareth lifted Sarah and placed her on the bed. When she came into contact with the bed the second protrusion was pushed further into her, causing her to gasp and wriggle, which in turn pushed her clit against the inside of the device. She gasped and Jareth clamped a hand down on her shoulder.

"Just try and sit still," he said. He placed the tray onto her lap. The bowl contained a thick substance, not unlike porridge, but with certain similarities to mud. The mug seemed to contain hot water. "Try and each as much as you can, you'll need your strength."

As Sarah forced herself to swallow, Jareth set about finding a few hollow tubes, and two large bags. Sarah watched him warily. When she had forced down as much of the gloop as she could she pushed the tray away.

"What comes next?" she asked Jareth cautiously.

"Lie down, flat on your back. I need to ensure the food you have just eaten won't worsen the cramps." That sounded ominous. "And do it slowly..." he added as Sarah tried to flop back onto the bed, pushing the second protrusion deeper within herself, Jareth quickly negated the effect this would have on her clit. This was not the time for that sort of punishment; he had a better one up his sleeve.

As Sarah lowered herself carefully onto the bed he placed his hand on her abdomen, spreading his fingers. To Sarah it felt like his touch was burning. He shut his eyes and suddenly Sarah felt something change within her. Jareth grunted in satisfaction.

"Now Sarah, I need you on your hands and knees, arms bent a bit. Yes, just there." Jareth paused a moment, admiring Sarah's arse as it stuck up in the air. On an impulse he stepped up behind her, placing one hand on each cheek and squeezing gently. He leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on the small of her back before running his hands up over her hips and down to cup her dangling breasts. Sarah's embarrassment turned to pleasure. Jareth withdrew his hands. "This will feel strange Sarah," Jareth warned.

He crouched down till he could see her face, watch her reaction, and rested one hand in the small of her back. Sarah's face contorted in surprise and shock as she felt the second protrusion start to widen within her, stretching her puckered opening almost past endurance. She had never felt an invasion like this and her body screamed out to get it removed. She swung her head from side to side.

"Sarah," Jareth's voice was calm and reassuring, "go with it Sarah, it can even be quite pleasurable." Sarah made a conscious effort to relax, and Jareth sent a gentle vibration through the protrusion, causing her to shudder. Jareth stood and gathered up a length of tube and a liquid filled bag. He muttered a few words and the protrusion hollowed into a cylinder, holding her open but no longer blocking. Jareth pushed the end of the tube into the hole so that it made a seal with the device. He connected up the bag and hung it from a hook in the stone wall. Sarah whimpered in apprehension.

Jareth's cold voice interrupted her anxious thoughts, "Sarah, you may not look round. If you look round you will pay for it. Understand?"

Sarah whimpered again and nodded. Jareth turned the tap and the liquid slowly began to flow. Sarah gasped and relaxed a little. It felt quite good. Sneakily, she tried to take a peek at Jareth, to find out what he thought of her crouching here with her arse in the air. As soon as she moved her head however, she was hit with an electric shock right through the clit, causing her to tense and spasm, making the tubing very uncomfortable as she started to fill with the liquid. She resolved to stick to his instructions, and not try to look at him again.

Jareth smiled to himself. That should be enough to make her keep her eyes to herself. Quietly he lowered the waistband of his tight leggings. Taking himself in his hands he began to stimulate, just as the first cramps hit Sarah, and she began to moan.

It seemed to take an age for the bag to empty as wave upon wave of cramps hit Sarah. Her stomach was distended and she felt nauseas. She could hear Jareth gasping behind her, but she dared not look around to see what he was doing. At last she heard his breath hitch and catch, and a few moments later felt him unhooking her from the tube.

"All you need is over there, I'll give you some privacy," he muttered, sealing the device until she had reached the chamber pot before exiting the room. He leaned with his back against the door, breathing deeply and hoping Sarah had not noticed his countenance, flushed redder than its usual paleness. He couldn't understand himself. He was finding it harder and harder to control his emotions when he was with Sarah, he could hardly keep his feelings form her. It was so unlike any encounter he had previously experienced with the opposite sex. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth before turning resolutely and re-entering the room.

Sarah was collapsed forward, crying quietly when Jareth re-entered the room. He crossed to her and wrapped his arms round her small frame, pulling her into a standing position and holding her close in comfort.

"Come," he whispered in her ear, "there is another process to go through before you have a wash and we leave." He took her hand and led her back to the bed. "We'll try and do it gently, although the Labyrinth demands that you be caused some minor discomfort at least. Lie down." He commanded.

Obediently Sarah laid herself gently down on the bed, trying not to shift either of the protrusions. Jareth sat down at her feet and pulled his hands up under her knees, bending and opening her legs. Sarah rolled her head back on the pillow, shutting her eyes and trying to disassociate her mind from what was happening. But then she felt the device shift and begin to expand within her. She cried out, startled at the sensation, half sitting up.

"Ssshhh, sshh, my dear," Jareth soothed. He placed an arm across her breasts and pushed her back down on the bed. Sarah realised that he device had stopped expanding, and was now stretching her walls more than they had ever been stretched before. She gasped. Now the device was moving again, slowly withdrawing so that it was barely within her, holding her entrance wide. Then as the other protrusion had done previously, it hollowed. Jareth tried and failed not to look down. He could see her stretched wide and open and despite his earlier relieving of the tension, he felt himself twitch. Hastily he rose and gathered the second tube and the smaller bag of liquid. When he sealed the tube to the device, he ground the device against Sarah's clit, causing her gasp and wriggle again, but his restraining arm across her chest prevented her from moving, and she only succeeded in rubbing her hard nipples against the fabric of his shirt. Grimly, Jareth continued fitting the tube. He hooked up the bag and turned the tap. And Sarah began to fill.

Jareth watched her facial expression change from pleasure, as the water swirled inside her, building the pressure, into one of discomfort as the tightness increased. She screwed up her face and started to pant, sweat stood out on her forehead. Jareth watched as the last trickle of liquid left the bag. He watched her writhe for a few moments, savouring the feeling of the Labyrinth exalting its triumph inside his mind. Then his concern switched back to Sarah. He bent and placed a finger against the device, vanishing the liquid from inside her. Sarah moaned at the change of sensation, form being so full to being so empty in such a short period of time. Jareth helped her sit upright.

"You alright?" he asked. Sarah nodded although the throbbing form between her legs was almost unbearable. She grimaced.

"Do I get a bath now?" she queried, remembering Jareth saying she must be clean inside and out. Well, she was certainly clean inside now.

Jareth nodded and clapped his hands together, shouting for the goblins to bring bath water. Sarah lay back and allowed Jareth to carefully remove the device. The throbbing lessened and she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt herself relax. Jareth helped her into the bath and was delighted when she sank into the water and allowed him to wash her. Gently he ran the sponge over her body, wiping away the sweat that had grown on her from her last ordeal. When he washed between her legs he did it almost as if he was a father washing a daughter, and Sarah sighed in relief at the knowledge he could be so tender. When she was clean Jareth dried her, and dressed her in a simple but beautiful white dress.

Jareth cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. "It is time to go." He said. Turning towards the door he offered her his arm. Slipping her arm through his felt right, like this was how she belonged, and she allowed herself a small smile as she tightened herself to his side.

Together, they set off to meet the council.


	10. Chapter 10

As they walked down the endless steps from the tower room, Sarah lent into Jareth, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, enjoying his scent. Jareth smiled down at her, feeling his heart swell with an emotion he had come to suspect he would never feel. He loved this girl, wanted to cherish her, wanted her to want him, needed to test her devotion. But he wanted to be gentle, to be allowed to love her. He was coming to realise that she would do anything for him. So as he smiled down at her as he slipped his arm from hers and wrapped it round her waist.

Sarah felt Jareth's arm move round her waist possessively. She smiled and breathed in contentedly. It was right, she belonged body and soul to him, and would do anything for him. His fingers spread slightly, feeling her slimness. Sarah longed for him to increase the pressure, to move his hand up or down, to do something to alleviate the tension she felt coiling inside her, the pressure that had remained unfulfilled since he had first reappeared, and that he had aggravated almost past endurance. At the entrance to the castle they paused, Sarah lifting her face to the cold light, relieved to be outside again after the long spell indoors. On the steps of the castle Jareth turned Sarah to face him and lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear. His hands slid up her arms, grasping her firmly.

"Hold tight," he whispered.

He wrapped his arms round Sarah pulling her body against him and this time Sarah did not try to pull back but held herself against him, letting him feel every one of her curves, feeling for herself the large swelling beneath Jareth's tight leggings. She heard him sigh slightly as she met his pressure with pressure.

A goblin in the city looked up. Seeing his king and a beautiful young lady held tight together in an intimate embrace he raised his bushy eyebrows and turned his head to call his wife to view the spectacle. When he turned back, both figures had vanished.

As they reappeared Jareth released Sarah and took a step back. The building they now stood before was one of the most ostentatious that Sarah had ever seen. Grand steps led up through a row of ornate pillars and above heavy, gold studded metal doors hung a crest and description which read "Grand Council of the Underworld".

Jareth leant down and muttered in her ear, "Remember, I conquered you. Be respectful but confident, answer every question truthfully and fully, they will know if you are lying and will take pleasure in punishing you for it." He smiled and took her by the elbow. "Come."

He led her up the carved stone steps and as they approached the doors they opened of their own accord. The atrium was large and polished, with gold sculptures marking the way. As they entered a young human looking boy fumbled to meet them, almost tripping over himself at the importance of his job.

"My Lord King," he stammered, bowing low before Jareth. "And Lady Sarah." He took her hand and bowed over it. "This way My Lord," and he indicated that Jareth should follow him. A small door led out of the atrium and was marked "Council Chambers". "My Lord must wait here, the Lady must proceed alone."

Jareth looked as though he was about to protest but Sarah smiled weakly at him and he managed to hold his tongue. Sarah squared her shoulders and walked through the door. Blinding light dazzled her and she raised a hand to try to shield her eyes. A voice spoke.

"Sarah Williams?" it enquired.

"Y...yes," stammered Sarah, still trying to peer through the light at the voice's source.

"Sarah Williams, formerly of the Overground, now here at His Majesty's pleasure?" the voice asked again.

"Yes, I suppose so." Sarah was confused. They clearly knew exactly who she was, especially since Jareth had met with them to discuss her.

"You will remove your clothes. As an Overgrounder you require full physical examination."

Sarah sighed; it appeared that even here she was to be subject to humiliation.

"Hurry up." The voice commanded.

Sarah reluctantly pulled the dress Jareth had given her over her head, biting back a response.

"You will put on the blindfold that you will find on the desk in front of you." The voice dictated.

This time Sarah could not help herself. "Why?" she exclaimed.

"Do not question a council representative Overgrounder!" the examiner shrieked. "No person can know the identity of their examiner, in case it should cause future problems." He paradoxically went on to explain.

Well, Sarah thought, if she was going to have dealings with this man in the future, she would rather not know that he had seen her naked and vulnerable. She picked up the blindfold and tied it firmly round her eyes. Through the fabric of the cloth she saw the brightness dim and heard footsteps approach her.

"Hmmm," the examiners voice was right in front of her now. "Height," she felt a hand on her head, "five foot six and weight," the hand lifted slightly and Sarah felt herself lift slightly with it, "eight stone." She heard the sound of scribbling as more measurements were taken and noted down. "Breasts, round and full, size..." more scribbling.

Sarah could feel the burn of the council man's eyes on her and although she couldn't see him she felt her cheeks grow red.

"Behind you is a couch of sorts, kindly lie on it and do not move. I am now going to search you for any malformations of body or any substance carried with you from the Overground that may be harmful here. Lie on your face please."

Sarah obediently lay face down on the scratchy surface of the hard couch. She didn't know what to expect now. What felt like a cool metal rod was placed at her head, pressing into her hair. She felt it run down to the dip between her shoulder blades, down each arm and then down her back, up over the curves of her buttocks, pressing hard and unlubricated a few centimetres into her puckered opening, stinging against her aching muscle that fought against it. She tried not to cry out. And then it was gone, running down her leg to her feet.

"Turn over." The voice commanded. Knowing what was coming Sarah had to force herself to turn. She was so nervous that she was dry as a bone, so when the probe forced its way into her, the pain was nearly unbearable and she couldn't help but cry out. Her cry was immediately followed by the crashing of the doors and Jareth's angry voice.

"What are you doing? We had a deal. She remains intact." Even from across the room Sarah could feel his rage.

"My Lord, this is merely the prequestioning examination – no harm has come to the Lady." The examiners voice was courteous and respectful. "I must ask your Lordship to leave now so that we can finish the examination.

"No." Jareth shook his head vehemently, looking down at the naked and blindfolded form of Sarah. "I'll not leave her alone with you again. You must question her and consider your verdict in my presence."

"Yes My Lord, if you so wish. I'll call the council to order. Excuse me My Lord."

As the examiners footsteps retreated Jareth tore the blindfold from Sarah's eyes, hugging her to him before pulling her dress back over her head.

When the assembled line of councilmen trooped in Jareth again refused to leave Sarah's side, as well as vouching for her truthfulness and forbidding them to attach any of what looked like electrodes to her person in order to keep her to the truth. The questions ranged from when she had started her periods to how many chickens she had owned in her life, and while Sarah had to swallow some initial embarrassment, as well as her pride, the ordeal was soon over and the councilmen prepared to deliver their verdict.

"It is traditional that the proposed husband should be called to hear the verdict, but since you are already here My Lord," the head councilman cleared his throat. "In the absence of purification of the female genitalia, the proposed bride underwent cleansing, this is far from satisfactory...however as it is a special case My Lord," again he paused and cleared his throat. "We pronounce the Lady Sarah fit for Underworld marriage. My Lord King Jareth, you may be married forthwith. We wish umm much happiness. The councilman cleared his throat a third time and sat down.

Jareth looked at him steadily. "Thank you, mu council, for this service." He linked his arm through Sarah's and walked sedately from the room, leaving the council house by the large imposing doors. At the top of the steps he paused, beaming at Sarah before picking her up, whirling her round and laughing.

"We can marry," he rejoiced, "in the eyes of the law you are my wife; we only need to make it official."

He put her down and pulled her into their first truly loving embrace. He pulled back slightly looking straight into her eyes.

"Sarah, my love." He whispered, before leaning in and kissing her mouth gently, wrapping his arms round her back. When Sarah drew back, slightly shaken for all the chaste nature of the kiss, they were again on the steps of his castle.

**Sorry it's been so long!!! This is just a holding chapter, I had to force myself to write it and it didn't flow like the others. Anyway, hope you like it. Please R+R. Things about to get interesting. Love you all. xxx**


	11. Chapter 11

Jareth spun on his heal clapping his hands.

"Goblins?" he called. "A feast, a ball, a celebration for my new bride." Goblins came hurrying out of the castle cackling in delight. "Invite the Prince's from the far away land and the council. There must be food and dancing and singing." Jareth twirled over to Sarah picking her up and spinning her again. "And, yes why not? Order yourselves two thousand chickens to be delivered to the courtyard forthwith." The Goblins whooped and crawed as Jareth began kicking them from the top of the steps, across the driveway and onto the lawn. The entire steps of the castle were covered with goblins all clamouring for it to be their turn next. Sarah covered her mouth with her hand in an effort not to laugh out loud. Through the chaos Jareth reached out his hand, grabbing Sarah's and pulling her back to him. Gently he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

"My love," he said softly, so only she could hear. And then he kissed her again. His lips were soft and gentle on hers, displaying a surprising tenderness for someone who could be so cruel. His lips lingered over hers, until a barrage of wolf whistling from the surrounding goblins jerked them both back to reality. "Be gone," Jareth called to them. "Make ready for tomorrow night's celebrations." He turned to Sarah. "Come, my dear, we will dine in my study."

Taking her hand again, Jareth led Sarah into the castle and down a series of corridors, growing more and more silent as they approached their goal. As he opened the study door Jareth paused, a frown creasing his forehead. He crossed to the desk, resting both hands on the polished oak. Sarah lingered in the doorway, looking at the magnificent desk, the plush armchairs and the merrily crackling fire. Her attention turned back to Jareth. He was still leaning on his desk with his back to her.

"Jareth, what's wrong? Are you alright?" She was concerned by his immobility.

He spoke without turning to face her. "Sarah I'm sorry. This has been so rushed and you have been given no chance for consideration. As far as the council is concerned you are already my wife, for no woman is allowed to refuse after being found fit. The Underground decrees that a woman becomes a man's wife through the physical act of love, no ceremony. However..." At this he turned to face her, raising his right hand and drawing from the air a single red rose and a gold ring. "Sarah Williams..." he sank down onto one knee, "will you marry me?"

Sarah's eyes filled with tears. She loved this man with all that she was. She gave him a wobbly smile and nodded her head vigorously, not trusting herself to speak. Jareth stood and slipped the ring over her finger, his heart singing with happiness.

"My love," he whispered, intertwining his gloved fingers with hers. He leant and kissed her on the mouth. Again he lingered a few moments but this time, instead of drawing back, he parted his lips slightly, drawing his tongue softly against her lips, requesting entry. She sighed as she parted her lips and her tongue met Jareth's properly for the first time. After a few moments he drew back. "My love," he whispered again.

They shared a good meal in the study, although Jareth found that he could not eat much. The thought of finally being able to love Sarah as he had longed to was enough to distract him from any hunger he may previously have felt. He watched her with eyes filled with love, savouring each movement she made. He pictured her as she had been earlier, naked and helpless before him. He smiled at the thought. Yes, that would come again, but tonight was for something precious and gentle. He hoped Sarah wasn't too worried about what was to come.

Sarah managed to eat a fairly good meal; despite the fact that her nerves were jangling so much she was surprised that Jareth hadn't heard them. She had to force herself to concentrate on her food, to keep her mind from wandering to what might be under Jareth's loose shirt, and the knowledge of what he kept in his trousers.

When Sarah had finished eating Jareth vanished the empty dishes and fixed Sarah with his penetrating stare. "Sarah, you know I love you, don't you?" He was not sure why he had said it; he only knew that it had needed to be said.

Sarah lowered her head and nodded. She blinked hard and her shoulders began to shake.

"Sarah, love, what's wrong?" Jareth asked, concerned.

"Nothing," Sarah sniffed. "Only that I can't remember anyone ever having said that to me in my life before."

"Sarah honey, I loved you from the moment you first entered my Labyrinth, and I will go on loving you for all eternity, from witst death will never part us. Come here." Jareth held out his arms and Sarah crossed to where he sat in his large armchair. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back gently until her sobs abated. He lifted her chin and wiped away the remaining tears with his thumb.

"Better?" Sarah nodded. "No more tears. Not tonight. Tonight is for joy, and discovery, and love." Sarah felt a stab of nerves shoot through her but the soothing tone and gentleness that Jareth was using encouraged her, so that this time when he kissed her she was ready and opened her mouth, meeting his tongue with hers. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his chest and felt Jareth smile against her lips. His hand ran down her back to her bum, pulling her further onto his lap, for the first time letting Sarah get some idea of what she could do to him. Sarah pulled back from the kiss and stared at him in shock.

"You're so...you're so..." Sarah blushed, unable to finish the sentence. The nerves she had felt earlier came back with full force as she wondered how on earth she would be able to accommodate him.

"Ssshhh, sshh. Don't worry my love," Jareth crooned, causing Sarah to forget everything again as he kissed her with a renewed passion. He found her small hand and, intertwining their fingers, placed it inside the opening of his shirt. The feeling of skin on skin was electrifying and on an impulse Jareth enveloped Sarah completely in his arms, transporting them so that the next time Sarah opened her eyes they were in Jareth's vast bedroom.

The four poster on which they sat was of carved oak and the drapes and carpets were in dark reds and greens. Sarah gasped in delight as she surveyed the room. Opposite the bed was a large gilt mirror and Sarah could see herself reflected in it as she turned, leaning back against Jareth's chest. Jareth's hands were on her waist and he was kissing her neck just below her ear. Sarah placed her hand on Jareth's thigh, just above the knee, feeling the taught muscle through his leggings.

Jareth sighed and shifted from behind her, pulling her back on the bed until he was lying looking down at her, propped on one elbow.

"My Sarah," he whispered, bringing his mouth back against hers. Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he ran one hand up her side until it was cupping her breast. He began to mould and stimulate, teasing Sarah's nipple into a point through the bodice of her dress. Sarah broke the kiss, sighing at his ministrations and running her hands up under his shirt, taking it with her until she could pull it over his head. Jareth could feel the heat of her gaze as she took in his muscled arms and chest, his flat stomach and the place just above his waistband that started to V down, promising more.

Leaving Sarah's mouth, Jareth kissed down her neck to her collarbone while at the same time reaching down with his free hand to gather Sarah's skirt and start to run it up her leg. Sarah moaned in disappointment when Jareth bypassed the place she most wanted to be touched as he pulled the dress up and over her head – leaving Sarah completely naked. Jareth leant over her body possessively, running his hand down over breasts to cup her intimate area. He stared at her face.

"Sarah. Open your eyes and look at me when I touch you." His cool English accent was commanding and authoritative and Sarah felt herself compelled to do as he said. With an effort she forced herself to meet his gaze, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks. Without ever looking away Jareth slipped one long finger into her entrance, withdrawing slightly before slowly adding a second, and then a third. Sarah bit her lip, fighting to maintain contact with the piercing mismatched eyes above her. It felt new and wonderful, as though this was the first time he had touched her, as though everything that had gone before was imagination and, she suddenly realised, her own desires speaking. Perversely she realised that she had enjoyed his domineering bondage style use of her, and she hoped it wouldn't stop forever. And then Jareth hooked his fingers within her and she lost all form of coherent thought as her eyes fluttered closed again.

"Sarah open your eyes." Jareth hooked his fingers again, pressing his thumb against her clit. Drawing a ragged breath Sarah forced her eyes back to his. Jareth stared into the deep green pools of her eyes, watching the mixture of love, trust and shock that his words and actions drew from her. He knew he truly had her now, that she was his to use and abuse as he wished, and that she would never question his decisions. He revelled in the triumphant feeling that coursed through him and he twisted his fingers in Sarah's heat, hearing her breath hitch, basking in the knowledge that it was all for him, that he was her one and only.

Carefully, he insinuated one of his knees between her legs, shifting them apart. He transferred his weight across so that his still clothed hips came to settle between Sarah's thighs. He could feel his cock pulsing so hard that it was all he could do to keep his reassuring attitude in place. He silently resolved not to let Sarah see him before it was over, lest the sight of his sheer size and girth proved to scare her too much to continue, for he knew he was much larger than any human male.

Moving his hands away from her heat Jareth gently took Sarah's legs, moving them as far apart as they would go and bending her knees, opening her as wide as possible. He bent his head and kissed her softly on the lips before leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Tell me you trust me."

Sarah's voice shook as she uttered the response she knew she would always give. "I trust you."

Jareth's breaches and boots vanished from him, leaving him naked between Sarah's legs.

"Look at me Sarah," he said for a third time and Sarah forced herself to meet his gaze. Holding her eye contact Jareth pushed himself into Sarah, seeing the fear the etched her features as she felt how truly large he was. When he was fully sheathed inside her Jareth paused and held still.

"Tell me you love me," he commanded.

"I love you Jareth," Sarah managed to gasp out. Her inner walls were being stretched so hard that it almost hurt. She knew she could hardly take it. But he was inside her. Filling her. And it was wonderful. For a full two minutes he held still, simply staring at her and relishing the feeling of her tight, hot walls encasing him. Finally he moved, lowering his head back down to hers so that he could again speak into her ear.

"Fear me." And he thrust once. Hard.

"Love me." He thrust again.

"Do as I say." A third time he punched into her.

"Let me rule you." For all of the passionate position his voice remained icy cool.

"Yes," Sarah managed to gasp, her eyes squeezed shut.

"You are my slave."

"Yes, I am forever your slave."

Sarah could feel something growing within her, tightening, coiling round her womb, holding it in a stranglehold of pleasure.

"Cower before me because I am frightening." Jareth's voice was growing louder and more forced as the speed of his rhythm increased.

But suddenly he stopped altogether, supporting himself on his arms and staring down into Sarah's face until she met his eyes.

"I can be cruel," he said, eyes locked on hers. And he began to pummel into her again with renewed vigour.

Jareth could feel his climax building, knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer as he continued to thrust into Sarah's tightness. Sarah felt her inner walls clench around Jareth as she hit her climax in a wave of ecstasy. Time seemed to stop, or skip, the world turned upside down as Jareth fulfilled her dreams. Feeling Sarah's release Jareth let himself go, spilling his seed into her as he locked his mouth back against hers to anchor himself in the tide of satisfaction. He had brought about her first ever climax.

As Jareth's heart began to return to a more normal rate he carefully withdrew himself, rolling off Sarah to lie on his back with his arm round her. He was so tired. He had worked so hard to bring himself to this point, especially following the defeat of his Labyrinth and all he was required to do. He suddenly realised that he was exhausted.

"But you far exceeded my expectations," Sarah murmured, as though she had read his thoughts. Jareth turned to face her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. Sighing, he pulled the blanket up to cover them both, feeling her warmth mingling with his.

For the first time in the rest of eternity Jareth and Sarah drifted off to sleep together.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys, for those of you who were worried never fear...there is more to come. Jareth enjoyed the last chapter and wanted some more, so thought I better give it to him as he is one guy I don't want to piss off. So here it is. Chapter 12. Yeah, this is a sort of filling in chapter before the events of the ball. Hope you like it. And please review cos theyu really keep me going...its nice to know if people are reading. Luv you xxx**

An arm rested round her waist. Fingers traced delicate circles on the skin of her stomach. Warm breath ghosted through the hairs at the base of her neck and soft lips pressed against her shoulder. Sarah could feel a warm body pressed against her, moulded round her frame. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily as waves of happiness washed over her. Languidly she rolled onto her back and smiled up into the mismatched above her as Jareth propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. Jareth grazed his hand across her ribs, bringing it to rest high up on her stomach, thumb resting between her breasts.

"Good morning, my dear," he said as he leant down to kiss her on the mouth. Sarah lifted her left hand to Jareth's cheek, before tangling it gently in a few of the longer strands of his hair.

"I love you," she whispered.

"My beautiful wife," he murmured, leaning down to kiss first one eyelid and then the other.

She ran her hands lightly down his chest, bringing them to rest on his hips. She pulled the centres of their bodies against each other under the sheets.

"So that's your little game is it?" Jareth laughed, before wrapping his arms round her and lifting her up to him in a mind numbing kiss. His mouth plundered hers as one hand held her head where he wanted it, the other straying down her back to the swell of her buttocks as he pressed her hips firmly into his own. As they kissed Sarah could feel his erection pressing into her stomach, leaving her in no doubt as to where this kiss would lead.

Sarah shifted away from Jareth slightly, breaking the kiss and separating their bodies. Jareth looked down at her in concern. Why had she done that when things had just been starting to get good? Then he smiled as he realised her true motives behind the move. Her small hand had left his hip and was running down the delicate skin lower on his body. Tentatively she touched him and he smiled his encouragement to her. He rolled over, flopping down on his back so that Sarah could shift over and increase her exploration. One of his hands trailed lazily down her shoulder, flicking gently at her nipple where it hung above him. She batted his hand away, her face a mask of concentration as she ran one finger along his length, barely touching him. Jareth bit his lip and covered her hand with his own, encouraging her to take a slightly former touch, moving her fingers and guiding her in some of the ways he liked to feel pleasure. Sarah glanced shyly at his face and was surprised to see his head thrown back, his breathes coming in shorter gasps. She smiled and ran her fingers along the underside of his penis, eliciting a moan form the Goblin King. The fingers that had been idly playing with her breast stilled and he glanced at her through narrow eyes before suddenly seizing her upper arms and pulling her on top of him. She squeaked in surprise. He pulled her head down to him and drove his tongue into her mouth, the hot feeling he had intensifying as he felt himself rub against Sarah's slick entrance.

Sarah moaned as she felt his tip slipping between her folds. The pleasure was amazing but with it was a feeling of panic. She couldn't control this; she wasn't ready to be on top. However when she felt Jareth's hands on her hips, lifting her slightly, she knew she would never be able to deny him anything and she allowed him to lower her on to him, unable to restrain the carnal noise she emitted as she felt herself again being stretched to breaking point. She shut her eyes and her head fell back. Jareth gazed hungrily at the tender exposed skin of her soft neck before sitting up, eliciting another groan from Sarah as his cock shifted within her, and biting the sensitive area. Sarah let out a small scream, her eyes flying open as she gazed at Jareth in horror. Then slowly she leant towards him and they shared a kiss before he lay back down on the bed, shifting his hips, encouraging her to move.

Sarah raised herself slowly, feeling very self conscious. She lowered herself back down again, moaning slightly at the feeling inside her but also very aware of Jareth's gaze on her. He watched her through half closed lids, lying still and letting her do all the work. Admiring the bite he had left on her neck, marking her as his. It took all the self control he possessed not to move and help her, but he wanted to see how much she would manage on her own. He raised his hands and covered her breasts kneading and teasing at her nipples. He lay still for as long as he could, watching her fuck him until, unable to bear the building pressure any longer, he flipped them over and began to set his own rhythm, harder, faster and more demanding than hers had been. If Jareth had worried that his punishing pass might be too much for Sarah, he need not have been concerned. As their heart rates returned to normal, and she snuggled against him, head tucked under his chin she marvelled at the severity of their love making, wondering if it could possibly get any better. She loved his changeable nature. One minute kind and caring, the next hard and hot, using her and giving to her more and better than she could possibly have imagined in her wildest dreams.

She smiled and whispered seductively, "If that's what it's like when we're good, what's it going to be like when where bad."

Over her head Jareth grinned in a feral way. So that was how she liked it? His warm, soft Sarah, gentle in all things. He realised then why she had made him so fearsome and frightening on their first meeting. She liked to be ruled and dominated. Well he could be soft and gentle, lovingly guiding her through the new, adult world she found herself in, but he could be forceful as well. He smiled. He had an idea.

"If you're bad," he whispered back, "your punishment will be exacting." He stared into her eyes. "Because you," he kissed her, "are," he kissed are again, "mine." He delved his tongue into her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed and kneading her breast with his left hand.

And all at once he rolled away, elegantly pulling a deep green dressing gown around his shoulders and extending a hand to help Sarah from the bed.

"My Lady," he crooned, bowing over her hand as though helping her alight from Cinderella's carriage. Giggling, Sarah scrambled after him and pulled the dressing gown he offered her round her shoulders. "A wash I think," Jareth announced, "and then breakfast. Goblins?"

They shared a shower in Jareth's en-suite. He insisted on washing her, running his hands, slippery with soap, all over her naked body. Afterwards they shared a sumptuous breakfast, and Jareth picked out a simple green dress, with a shaped bodice, for Sarah to where.

Later, as they walked in the castle grounds and Jareth showed Sarah the loch, she could not help but notice that Jareth kept a possessive hand on her, and its touch thrilled her. As the circled the loch his hand slipped from her hip to rest on her bum, fingers slipping lower to touch her through her dress. Sarah squirmed away but he merely increased the pressure, pushing the fabric of her dress against her, dipping just inside her entrance. She sighed and leant against him, wrapping her arms round his neck.

"Come," he murmured into her hair, "it is time you started to prepare for the ball. My ravishing queen must make all men jealous."

He tightened her to him possessively and turned back towards the castle.


	13. Chapter 13

**I thought this chapter would get as far as the ball...but we seem to have got a little side tracked somewhere. The next chapter will be the ball, promise. *smiles sweetly***

**In the mean time hope you enjoy this chapter, it just seemed to come to a good chapter ending so I didn't want to force the issue. Please read and review. Reviews give me energy. Love you all. xxx**

Jareth led Sarah back to his, their, chamber, fingers interlocked with hers as he led her through the castle's narrow passages. As they crossed the threshold he spun her round and pulled her to him, locking his lips down over hers. When they surfaced Sarah was gasping for air, although Jareth seemed as relaxed and graceful as ever.

"That was for being so beautiful," he told her.

The dress he had picked out for her was a more mature version of the one she had worn in the peach induced dream. The tight, shaped bodice was still there, though lower cut than she remembered it, but the skirt was not so puffy or flouncy. It hung closer to her body and accentuated the swing of her hips. She chose a pair of silvery white slippers to go with it. Jareth refused to let her use make-up claiming it merely hid a person's natural beauty.

Now she sat in front of the large mirror opposite the bed as Jareth stood behind her. He was watching her face in the mirror as he gently drew a brush through her beautiful dark brown hair. He allowed the locks to slip between his fingers, marvelling at their silky smoothness. Sarah leant her head back against his stomach, smiling at him in the mirror. H leant down and pressed his lips to the skin of her neck, just below her ear, before whispering, "That makes it slightly harder for me to untangle your hair precious."

She giggled and turned to him, wrapping her arms round his neck as he kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder.

"I was thinking I could wear it down any," she moaned as his pointed teeth nipped at her skin.

He growled his approval at her.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready yourself Jareth?" she queried, finally managing to push him back and summon a coherent thought.

"Mmmm," he sighed pulling her back against him, "I don't take long." He paused for sometime as though musing. Sarah wondered what he could be considering. "Precious?" he said into the crook of her neck.

"Mmm?"

"Will you do something for me tonight?"

"Jareth you know I will do anything you ask."  
He smiled at this, knowing it was true. "I want you to wear something for me, something only we know about."

"What?" she queried, "I'm already wearing a full costume of your choosing."  
"Does it bother you?" she shook her head. "It's not something I want you to wear on you. Rather something I want you to wear in you."

Sarah pulled her head back so that she could look into Jareth's eyes questioningly. This announcement had shocked her a bit. He hastened to explain.

"You see Precious," he said meeting her gaze, "it is custom in the Labyrinth that a bespoken for woman," he smiled lovingly at her, "should wear a marked favour showing to whom she belongs. Almost like a chastity belt in your world." He crooked his eyebrow at her. "It is this." He reached into the air and took hold of a small cylinder, approximately one and a half centimetres in diameter and five centimetres long. On one end was a carving of the coat of arms of the Goblin Kingdom. Sarah couldn't be sure but it too looked to be made of Labyrinthian. She looked at it doubtfully.

"So what do I do with it?" she asked although she thought she already knew the answer. She did not relish the prospect of spending the whole evening with that thing but she knew she could deny Jareth nothing he asked of her.

"It is more a question of what I do with it," Jareth replied, smiling wickedly at her.

He bent down on one knee and began to gather her skirts up.

"Hey," Sarah exclaimed embarrassed, "I could do it myself."

Jareth shook his head up at her and again she gave in to his demands. She felt his hands between her knees, pushing her legs apart and she obediently separated them to a little more than shoulder width. One of his cool hands traced its way up her thigh, leaving shivers of fire in its wake. Gently his long fingers shifted her underwear to the side and parted her. She could not help but moan when she felt one of his fingers enter her. Her knees threatened to buckle and as he chuckled at her reaction his other hand quickly steadied her. Then she felt the cylinder pushing at her entrance, slowly sliding in until she could feel the finer following it. She smiled at herself when for some reason it reminded her of inserting a tampon. The smile was fast wiped off her face however when the finger was removed and she felt Jareth's lips on her lower lips. He kissed her sex once, softly, before letting her skirts down and straightening to his feet.

He looked deep into her eyes. She was blushing deeply and avoiding his eyes. With his fingers he tilted her head until she was forced to meet his gaze. "Thank you," he said simply.

"So," she started, obviously wanting to move on from what had just happened, "are you going to get ready now?"

"Yes," he stated, "I will change in the bathroom."  
"That's not fair," she cried echoing her former self, "you got to watch me change."

It was true. As he had reclined on the bed Sarah had coyly stripped off her outer clothes until she had stood in nothing but the underwear that Jareth had provided for the first time that day. As she had reached for the dress Jareth had shook his head slightly and moved his hand over the pile of clothing laid out next to him. A white satin bra and matching thong had appeared meaning she was expected to change her underwear too. She had had to swallow a lump in her throat, scolding herself. She did not know why, but the thought of him watching her undress made her so nervous. They had had sex, and he had seen her naked now on many occasions. But this was somehow much more real. Him lying back and watching as though she was putting on a show. She had steeled herself and unhooked the plain bra she was wearing. Jareth's eyes had darkened at the sight of her, his enjoyment of the spectacle clear. As Sarah pulled on the new underwear, emboldened by the knowledge of what she was doing to him, Sarah had turned her back on him and had bent to pick something up. She was gratified to hear Jareth's moan as her buttocks, not concealed by the skimpy thong, filled his vision. He had swept smoothly to his feet and pulled the dress over Sarah's head before fading from the room and leaving Sarah to struggle for ten minutes with the impossible fastenings down her back.

She had let him watch her change, so she wasn't going to be denied that pleasure in return. As he moved towards the bathroom door she ran round him to stand in the doorway, barring his way.

He smiled at her, his pointed teeth obvious as he drew back his lips. And he walked straight through her, just as he had done in his optical illusion a few years before. The door shut decisively behind her. As it did so Sarah jumped slightly. She could have sworn that the cylinder thing, which she had forgotten up until now, had twitched. She shook herself, scolding her imagination for playing tricks on her.

A knock came on the door. She crossed and opened it. There stood Jareth resplendent in a dark blue coat and tight breaches, much as he had been in the crystal ball. He extended his hand.

"My Lady. I am come to request the honour of escorting you to the ball of the Goblin King." And he bowed deeply.

Sarah's annoyance at him evaporated on the spot as she smiled up at him and slipped her hand into his.


	14. Chapter 14

**Ok, I've finally managed to get them as far as the ball, although they're a naughty pair, and Jareth will keep trying to distract me! But they are there now. Woohoo!!**

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far, and sorry that I have not managed to reply to all of you, but what with writing this and revising for my exams I have been quite busy. Oh well. Please keep reviewing, it helps me keep writing! And in case anyone is worried, this is ****not**** the final chapter. Plenty more to come.**

**Right. Please R&R. Love you all. xxx**

Bolts of excitement shot through Sarah as she linked her arm through Jareth's. She was really going to a proper ball! Jareth felt her body tensed with excitement as she clung to him and smiled indulgently down at her. He hoped that she would enjoy the ball as much as he intended to. And he had arranged a few little surprises for her. Through the doors of the castle ballroom escaped the noise of excited chatter and laughter. Goblins in blue and gold livery stood importantly on either side if the large, oak double doors. Jareth nodded to one goblin, who opened the door a crack.

A voice was heard to call from within the room, "Pray silence for his Highness Jareth, Crown King of the Goblins, and his wife, The Lady Sarah."

As Sarah felt her face blush deep red the goblins by the double doors pushed them open, revealing long tables at which were seated, or rather stood as they had jumped to their feet on announcement of the king, the largest variety of people Sarah had ever seen. The goblins were represented by about six of Jareth's cleaner and more trusted subjects but there were also elf like creatures whose pointed ears stuck through their shimmering hair, beautiful fae people who looked noble and resplendent, though with none of Jareth's suavity and ease of carriage. As Sarah swept down the hall on Jareth's arm she also got the impression of mystical faces with dark hair and pointed teeth that made her shiver, as well as an assortment of creatures that she could not begin to describe. The range of beauty and ugliness stunned her, though they were all joined in common by the fact that they were all beaming and smiling as they admired the royal couple, applauding.

As they reached the top of the room Sarah spotted a table that she had not seen before. It stood a little off from the royal table and seated only three people, though a dog shivered and wined beneath it. But there, invited to their ball and given a special place of honour was...

"Hoggle," Sarah cried, "and Ludo and brave Sir Didymus." She could not help but run to them, wrapping her arms round the dwarf, the monster and the little fox-like creature. "Oh, it's so lovely to see you again. Oh come out from under the table Ambrosias, let me say hello." The dog snuffled and licked her hand.

Sarah felt an arm snake round her waist as Jareth whispered in her ear, "Come my dear, the time for chat will come, but it is not now. The guests are waiting to eat, and cannot do so until we take are seats."

Reluctantly Sarah left her friends, promising to come back and speak to them later, in one of the breaks from dancing. As the royal couple took their seats everyone cheered and Sarah whispered to Jareth, "Thank you for inviting them, it means the world to me."

Jareth kissed her briefly on the mouth and answered, "For you, my love, anything." They smiled at each other and Jareth waved his hand in the direction of the tables, which were immediately groaning under the weight of a feast to rival all feasts.

As Jareth observed the assembled company from the royal dais he could not help a smug smile that spread itself across his countenance. He glanced sideways at Sarah, relishing the happy look of innocent enjoyment that she had. As pudding was cleared away Jareth clinked his glass with a teaspoon to get the attention of the assembly. Without rising he addressed the party.

"My friends," he called, his voice rising clear and strong above the chatter, "I must thank you all for coming here today to celebrate with me my marriage to my new queen Sarah." Sarah felt herself blush dark red as Hoggle, Ludo and Didymus jumped about cheering. "I must also thank you all..." Jareth's voice continued but Sarah heard no more.

Jareth's hand, which he had rested on her knee when he had introduced her, had begun to travel up her leg. Sarah bit her lip and stared hard at her goblet of wine, thankful of the rich table cloth that hung down to the floor on the other side of the table, shielding what was happening from the view of the revellers.

"I appreciate that you do not want to listen to me speak all evening," Jareth continued as though nothing was happening, "but I have one or two more things to add."

Stopping his hand as it reached mid thigh he carefully began to gather her dress up. He pushed his hand under the hem.

"My Lady Sarah and I..."

He squeezed her soft thigh, fingers stroking at the smooth flesh. He glanced sideways at her out of the corner of his eye and was amused to note that her expression was one of rapt attention, as though listening carefully to his speech. He continued speaking. His hand continued its journey towards the apex of her thighs, and as his hand reached its goal, pulling aside the skimpy knickers to touch bare flesh, though his voice continued in ease and elegance he distinctly heard her breath hitch. He schooled his expression to one of serene authority.

Jareth's speech was reaching its climax and the thronging assembly where cheering their king. Jareth's fingers left her tightened clit, which they had been pinching and rubbing as he spoke, gliding lower and demanding entrance at her slick opening. Sarah's face was flushed a deep red, but she shifted slightly, allowing him the access he requested. As two fingers entered her, withdrawing the cylinder and laying it on the edge of the chair between her legs so they could plunge deeply into her, Sarah barely managed to stifle a gasp.

Hoggle turned to Didymus. "Whats do you thinks is up with Sarah?" he whispered. "She's is awfully flushed."  
"Indeed," Didymus replied in an undertone, "she does seem somewhat flustered of countenance."

"Sawah shy," Ludo suggested, having overheard the conversation the other two were having."

"Thou speakest wisely, brave Sir Ludo," Didymus acknowledged, "our Lady is scarest used to appreciation of her valiant qualities and marvellous beauty."

Hoggle nodded in agreement with his friends' hypothesis. He himself would have fainted with all those people looking at him.

"And so," Jareth concluded, "my noble friends, join with me in celebration." As he said the last few words he withdrew his fingers, grasping the cylinder and pushing it rather forcefully back into Sarah, crushing the pad of his thumb against her clit before withdrawing his hand and sweeping to his feet. "My noble friends, if you would be so good as to rise..." there was a scraping of chairs as all assembled rose to their feet, hooves, claws or paws. Jareth waved his hand and the tables vanished while the chairs lined the edges of the room. The lights dimmed and a mystical orchestra struck up a beautiful melody.

"My dear," Jareth said turning to Sarah and bowing. "May I request the honour of the first dance?" He took her hand and raised it to his lips before drawing her out into the centre of the dance floor.

Sarah's knees still felt a little weak and she had only just finished readjusting her clothing. As such she found herself dancing very close to Jareth, pressing her body against his and clinging to him for support as he guided her elegantly across the floor in a breathtakingly romantic waltz. The guests seemed to vanish as Sarah stared up into his beautiful eyes. He met her gaze with his own filled with love. Slowly he sank his head, claiming her lips as the continued to dance, each caught up in the perfection of the moment. Watching at the edge, Ludo shut his eyes while Hoggle mimed being sick into his wine goblet. Didymus stared at the couple in rapture.

"Ahh..." he sighed, "The fair maiden has found her handsome prince." And he turned away brushing a tear from his eye.

As the music ended Sarah and Jareth separated, maintaining eye contact as he bowed low and she curtseyed deeply. The moment was broken as the guests broke out into tumultuous applause sweeping onto the dance floor to claim partners of their own. Sarah found herself swept up into the arms of a devastatingly handsome fae. Although not a patch on Jareth she added to herself. He was tall and slender with thick dark hair that fell over his startlingly blue eyes. He grinned down at her, before bowing as the music started.

"So Lady Sarah," he called as twirled her, "has my good for nothing cousin been good to you? Or should I be offering you quarters in my stately home but a few miles from here?"

"You're Jareth's cousin?" Sarah blurted out before she could stop herself.

"That I am, My Lady," crooned the fae in an estimable impression of Jareth, "and the delights I offer are many," he whispered, pulling her tightly against him as the dance demanded a waltz hold.

This time Sarah was in no doubt, the cylinder thing inside her had definitely just moved, and not only that, but it appeared to have expanded slightly. It was now stretching her slightly, impossible to ignore. Sarah schooled her features into a mask of indifference, seeking to hide this development for the man with whom she was dancing.

"Then as Jareth's cousin you will know he is the jealous type My Lord," she replied smoothly.

"Please, call me Raemon," her dance partner lilted into her ear, lowering his hands until the rested just above the swell of her buttocks, pulling her tighter to him.

Immediately Sarah felt the cylinder twist within her. To make matters worse it now seemed to be covered in small bumps that rubbed against her inner walls as it moved, making her breath come faster. Raemon noticed the change, seeing her eyes gazing over his shoulder as she attempted to remain in control.

"My fair Lady, you seem flustered. Perhaps you are tired from the dancing. I will take you somewhere quiet where you can rest." He smiled slyly down at her but she was not looking at him. Instead, her gaze was locked on Jareth's who dancing elegantly with his partner only a few feet away from them. His eyes held a mischievous glint and as he cocked his eyebrow at her she felt the cylinder begin to vibrate within her. Jareth gave her a wolfish smile before spinning his partner away and vanishing into the crowd.

Sarah clung to Raemon's shoulders to support herself, fighting against the feeling of arousal that the cylinder was eliciting form her. She was going to kill Jareth, she decided. After she'd kissed him senseless first of course, she added as an afterthought.

Jareth laughed to himself as he spun his partner away, pulling her sensuously to him and swaying his hips in time with the music. He had always been a fantastic dancer, leaving his partners desperate for more and swooning. He was really enjoying himself. The look of horror on Sarah's face had been priceless. He chuckled again. He was not worried about his cousin Raemon. The man was all talk and no action, or he would not have been so willing to play Sarah as he had at a time when she was in another man's embrace. The music ended and he bowed to his partner, turning away only to be swept up by the next eager woman, a stunning nymph like creature with pale green skin and leaves for hair. He smiled again. He really was having fun.

As the music ceased Sarah curtseyed to Raemon and, promising later to a handsome young elf, went in search of her friends. She found them sitting against the wall, watching the dancing with interest. Hoggle was resting his head against Ludo while Didymus was standing on his chair dancing a lively waltz with an invisible partner. Sarah sat down next to them, glad that for the time being Jareth had seen fit to stop manipulating the cylinder.

"Fair maiden," Didymus exclaimed, "is it not a most exquisite occasion."

"Yes it is," Sarah agreed, looking at Hoggle who was slipping sideways down Ludo. "Hoggle are you drunk?"

The little dwarf drew himself up slightly unsteadily, looking at her through unfocussed eyes. "I's am not," he slurred. "How dares you suglest...sungrest...supflest such a things." Waved a finger at a point two feet from where she was sitting. "You, young _hic_ lady, need to watch your manners." With that he slid slowly off his chair and onto the floor, where he promptly started snoring. Sarah giggled and Didymus shook his head sadly.

"I fear that noble Sir Hoggle as indulged of slightly too much Goblin Ale. For a noble character such as himself it is somewhat strong."

Ludo regarded his feet thoughtfully, and then stared at Hoggle. "Hog get trodded on," he muttered.

"Gosh Ludo you're right, what with all these dancing people. Come on, help me move him." Ludo lumbered to his feet and his tail promptly knocked over several nearby couples who started to protest violently until they saw Sarah. "On second thoughts Ludo, you just watch," Sarah said guiding him back to his chair.

Sarah pushed and pulled the inert dwarf as Didymus leapt round, baring his teeth and snarling at anyone who came too close. Eventually Sarah managed to push Hoggle under a row of chairs. "At least no-one will be able to stand on him there," she said to Didymus.

"A perfect solution My Lady," he exclaimed as bent into yet another sweeping bow.

As Sarah laughed she felt an arm snake round her waist and a hand flatten possessively over her rib cage.

"I am truly sorry, my noble Sirs to deprive you of my wife's riveting company," lilted the Goblin King as pulled Sarah back against him, "but I am afraid I must steal her away for a dance."

So saying, he spun her around to face him, catching her hand and tightening his arm around her waist.

"Jareth you idiot," Sarah hissed as they swung away into the stream of dancers, "I nearly melted all over your cousin because of your little joke."

"My darling Sarah, how could I not do something to rescue you from my foolish cousin, riveting though his company may be." Sarah glanced up to see his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh you..." Sarah muttered, frustrated, "You're intolerable."

"And yet you can't get enough." He began to snake his hips, moving sinuously in time to the music, holding Sarah close against his chest, fingers interlocking with hers. He traced a line down her spine, allowing is hand to rest at the cleft of her buttocks.

Jareth spun her and guided her, his suave elegance drawing admiration from all. Sarah was lost in the whirling speed of it all, with eyes only for Jareth. As the thirteenth hour struck and passed, neither noticed as the guests started to trickle back to their carriages, none wanting to interrupt the peace and intimacy of the couple locked together and swaying on the dance floor. Didymus rose, sighing and called Ambrosias to him as he and Ludo took a final look at the happy pair, before they too left.

Jareth tilted Sarah's head up from where it had been resting on his shoulder, running his thumb across her lower lip and smiling into her eyes.

"Sarah, my love," he said.

"Thank you Jareth, for a perfect evening." She stretched up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Their tongues met and began to dance a dance all of their own, spontaneous and unchoreographed. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her body against his while her arms twined round his neck.

A loud snore interrupted the pair.

"Hoggle!" Sarah exclaimed, breaking away from Jareth.

He caught her arm laughing and waved his hand in the dwarf's direction. Hoggle promptly vanished.

"Where have you sent him Jareth?" Sarah begged to know, concern written all over her face.

"Do not worry, my heart," soothed Jareth, pulling her arms round his waist, "when he wakes up he will find himself wrapped up cosy and warm in his own bed in the Goblin City." Sarah breathed a sigh a relief. She had worried that Jareth may have sent Hoggle to the bog for disturbing them at a time like that. She need not have feared. "And speaking of bed..." Jareth added, a mischievous look in his eye. Sarah smiled cheekily up at him as he transported them out of the empty ballroom, landing them in the middle of Jareth's chambers.

No sooner had Sarah's feet touched firm ground than Jareth's mouth was on her, devouring her neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin. Sarah knew he would leave marks but she got not bring herself to care as she let her head fall back to allow him better access. His hands consuming her breasts and her whole body felt as if it was on fire. She hung onto his shoulders to keep herself from falling.

"You...were...amazing...tonight," Jareth gasped between kisses as he kicked off his boots and shrugged off his jacket. Tearing his shirt off, he ripped Sarah dress over her head before collapsing her backwards onto the bed. He felt Sarah moan against his mouth, and smiled wickedly against her lips as he leant over her. Tuning into the cylinder he caused it swell, heat up and start to throb. Repositioning the bumps on its surface he instructed it to vibrate before bringing his hands back to her breasts, and pumping his tongue in and out of her mouth, mimicking an act that would soon follow. Sarah writhed and gasped under his ministrations, feeling the pressure build before she cried out her release. Reaching down Jareth tore off her bra and thong, plunging his fingers into her and removing the cylinder. Pushing her fully onto the bed he vanished the rest of his own clothes before plunging brutally into her, desperately seeking his own release.

Sarah felt hot and disorientated. The blood rushed in her ears and she couldn't think straight. All she knew was pleasure. Pleasure of the highest kind. She was vaguely aware of Jareth thundering into her, in a crazy, fast rhythm but as she was barely through her first orgasm she could feel her second building. As Jareth felt her walls tighten round him he dropped his hand between them and pressed her clit hard. Sarah's world shattered around her and she was only vaguely aware of Jareth's strangled cry as he too plunged over the edge.

Jareth withdrew from Sarah, relishing her moan at the loss, and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He slipped one arm beneath her neck, to cradle her as she returned to coherent thought. Yet again, for the umpteenth time since he had started on this roller coaster ride that was his love for Sarah, he wondered how she managed to completely turn his world around. He moved the stars for no-one, and yet between them they seemed to manage to reach those self same stars. He lay and puzzled over this until a soft sigh, and a movement of Sarah shifting slightly called him back to reality. Turning to her, he glanced over. She had fallen asleep, a contented smile still ghosting her lips, her breathing deep and regular. Jareth lifted his hand and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen across her face, before moving over and kissing her gently on the lips. As he pulled back her lips twitched and she smiled in her sleep.

"Sleep well my dear," Jareth whispered, "I love you."


	15. Chapter 15

**OK guys, and here is chapter 15. Jareth was in a really bad mood at the start of this chapter!! I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him. Well at least he may have got it out of his system now. I wouldn't count on it though *smiles wickedly. So anyway, I would just like to take this opportunity to announce, for those of you who haven't already guessed it, how much I LOVE David Bowie. He is so talented and amazing. **

**Anyway, back to the story. Hope you enjoy, please please please, read and review. Love you all. xxx**

When Sarah opened her eyes the cold underground dawn was yet to make its appearance at the bedroom window. The sky was crossed in folds of heavy, grey cloud, as though frozen in the moments before a storm. Sarah pulled the covers up to her chin and rolled over to snuggle up against Jareth's warm body. But he wasn't there. Sarah stared at the empty space in the bed before lifting the covers, as though he might have been hiding somewhere near the bottom. The bed was completely devoid of Goblin Kings.

Sarah sat up in bed and glanced round the room. The fire had recently been built up and, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, in an armchair, the fire light playing spookily over his countenance, sat Jareth. One ankle was crossed over his knee and his fingers were splayed over the plush velvet arms of the chair. He was staring intently into the fire, wrapped in his regal green dressing gown, which was tied loosely round his waist, falling open to expose most of his chest. His brow was furrowed with thought as he stared into the flames, as though seeking to find an elusive answer to some impossible question.

"Jareth?" Sarah spoke the name with concern etched on her features.

He did not rise, but turned his head to her, fire dancing in his mismatched eyes, expression unreadable, giving him an even more inhuman air than that which he usually carried.

"Sarah," he said, his voice smooth, "why are you awake? You should be asleep, resting after the ball."

Sarah looked into his eyes, looked into the flames that leapt and danced in them. She involuntarily shuddered.

"I woke and you weren't there. I was worried."

His expression deepened and she wondered what was going through his mind. A spark from the fire shot upwards and she saw it reflected in his eyes, concealing his feelings behind the mask of flame. Without meaning to, she shuddered again.

He shifted in his chair, uncrossing his legs and opening his arms to her. The firelight danced in his medallion where it lay across his chest.

"Your concern is touching. I could not sleep and, not wanting to disturb you, I came here to think." His voice was expressionless, but Sarah thought she caught a gleam, almost predatory, in his eye before it was once again consumed in flames. "But you are cold," he stated, "come here to the fire and warm yourself." He held out his arms again.

For some reason Sarah was unaccountably nervous. Perhaps it was the fire creating illusions in his eyes, or perhaps her own imagination was playing tricks on her, but she was sure that the gleam had returned to his eyes, burning behind the flame as he stared at her. Something akin to ...hunger? Finding herself unable to look away from the forceful draw of his eyes she rose and crossed to where he sat. The swirling around her thighs showed her that as she had left the bed, he had dressed her and by glancing down found that it was a black, tight night dress which stopped mid thigh and had buttons down the front.

Jareth held Sarah's gaze steadily as she walked towards him, hypnotising her with the intensity of his stare. In comparison to the light items he had dressed her in thus far since her return to the underground, the black night dress was much harsher. The low V neck accentuated her breasts as it plunged down between them, and the skirt showed off her shapely legs perfectly. The stern, sombre feel of it reflected his mood. Tonight he felt he was looking at his prey, drawing it to him through the power of fascination, only to devour it if it came too close. His lips parted slightly, showing the tips of his pointed teeth.

As Sarah reached Jareth she finally managed to tear her gaze from his eyes, letting it fall to the exposed skin of his chest, before settling on his mouth. His lips were slightly parted and his teeth gleamed, sharp and white in the darkness. She leant down to kiss him but he moved his head slightly, so her lips only connected with the very corner of his mouth.

"Jareth, what's wrong?" she asked, rejection stinging at her mind.

He did not reply but instead took her hand in his, drawing her too him and gathering her onto his knee. His arms folded round her as she snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat still. After a while he became aware that at some point he had started absently stroking her hair. His movements stilled and then he began carefully wrapping a few strands through his long, pale fingers. Sarah smiled to herself, whatever this strange mood was it seemed to be passing. And then she gave a small scream as he pulled roughly down on her hair, jerking her head back until he could stare into her eyes. He untangled his fingers, smoothing her hair back into place. Her face, as it looked into his, held a fearful, uncomprehending expression.

"What...what was that for?" Her voice was nervous.

Jareth's face grew into a predatory smile, his tongue flicking over his teeth as he regarded her silently.

"Jareth, you're scaring me now." Her eyes were pleading with him for some sort of response. His tongue flicked out, running lightly along her lip before withdrawing. His gaze still held her mesmerised. Sarah's heart was hammering in her chest as some conventional part of her screamed at her to run. But at the same time there something strangely erotic about the hold position. As though her body loved for her to be terrified. Jareth's hand traced round her waist, whispering its way up her side until he reached her breast. Never looking away from her, he squeezed twice. Hard. He drank in her breath as it blew in short gasps over his lips. He inhaled deeply, smelling her fear and arousal. Through the fabric of the garment she wore he brought his fingers to the side of her breast, pinching hard between his thumb and forefinger and twisting. Bruising.

Sarah could not stifle the scream that left her as Jareth's fingers dug cruelly into her flesh. She struggled to get away from him, rolling off his lap, sprawling on the floor. She struggled to her feet and started to move towards the bed but suddenly Jareth was in front of her, blocking her path. In her panic she turned towards the door and tugged it open only to see the Goblin King, smiling his predatory smile from the other side. He was fully dressed in a jet black version of the outfit he had worn at their final confrontation when she had beaten his Labyrinth a few years before, although the collar was high at the back, forming a ridge that framed his face. His skin looked pale white against the midnight blue make-up on his eyes, contrasting harshly with his white-blond hair. Jareth smiled as he stepped into the room, eyes narrowed. Sarah backed away and shut her eyes so as not to have to see the predatory gleam now clearly visible in his eyes. Her back came up against the hard chest of a man and before she could escape, his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Sarah struggled and her feet left the ground as she attempted to free herself.

Jareth brought his lips close to her ear. "You can't get away from me," he crooned. "Forever," he whispered as Sarah's struggles ceased. "Forever and ever." He sank his teeth into the tender flesh bellow her ear.

Sarah cried out, tears springing to her eyes as she tore herself from his grasp, spinning round, arm raised. He caught her clenched fist and stepped forward, pushing her backwards until the side of the chair back pressed against her spine, trapping her. His tongue darted out, tasting the drop of her blood where it clung to his lip.

"I did warn you," he snarled, "I can be cruel."

Sarah whimpered as he leant forward towards her. Releasing her hands he slipped his own up to her shoulders curling them beneath the fabric of her clothing. Pulling it apart. Moving it down to her waist. Exposing her breasts. His lips parted slightly. His hands rested on her shoulders for a moment before gliding down the sides of her breasts, only to push back up over them, his gaze leaving hers momentarily to follow the path of his hands. His eyes returned to hers, still holding that strange, calculating expression.

The only sound was the fire crackling off to her left.

Placing a hand on her lower back, he moved her. Guiding her round the chair back to press her up against the dressing table, resting her slightly onto it. Never once did he look the slightest bit uncomfortable. He carried himself with the smug easiness of someone who knew exactly what was happening, and knew he was in control. He moved close, fingers tips pressing into the inside of her thighs. Her feet left the ground as her knees opened and her head fell back, unable to meet the mismatched stare of ice blue and black any longer. He settled his narrow hips between her thighs.

His gaze remained on her face, his expression inscrutable and calculating as he analysed her reactions. Lowering his head he brought his tongue against the exposed flesh of her collarbone, drawing its tip slowly up her neck, flicking it over her bottom lip. He drew back and looked at her. Her chest was heaving as she fought for breath and her eyes had darkened with lust. She tried to think but dark fog was clouding her brain. He moved his open mouth to within inches of hers, his tongue darting out between her lips to make contact with hers, before quickly withdrawing. He kissed her bottom lip briefly before repeating the darting action of his tongue. He opened his mouth wide, delving his tongue as far into her mouth as he could, pressing against her lips and duelling with her tongue. His fingers pulled at her chin, opening her mouth even wider. He pulled back, turning his head the other way and repeating the action. Jerking his head back when she tried to follow his lips.

Sarah felt as though all the breath had been robbed from her body. She could not move. She could not react. He was violating her mouth and she was so scared and hot that she could do nothing but fight for breath. His hands slid from her shoulders, over her arms where they were bracing her against the table, wrists still in the sleeves of the night dress, to her arse. He pulled his hands round the front, feeling the material of the nightdress snag beneath his gloved fingers. His hands moved to her upper thighs, thumbs on the insides, fingers caressing the outside as he slid them up. Right to the top. Thumbs pressing either side of her throbbing clit. Even before her strangled gasp had escaped her, his hands were back on her waist, sliding up to cover her breasts. Sarah could feel the cold metal of his medallion between her breasts where it had fallen free of his clothes. He pushed his hands into her and darted his tongue over hers again, not allowing her to follow him into a kiss. Jareth lowered his head and his tongue flicked over her collarbone before travelling down. He dragged his mouth down the valley between her breasts, thumbs flicking over her rigid nipples as his hands slid down to her waist. He placed an open mouthed kiss in the inverted V at the bottom of her rib cage before continuing down, his mouth closing over her clit and sucking hard, hands holding her upper thighs in place as she tried to writhe out of his grasp. Her head was thrown back and her breathing was out of control.

He paused, looking up at her, his expression still cool, calm and calculating. Still full of hungry predation. He brought his lips back to her clit, swirling his tongue around the hardened bundle of nerve endings. He bit down. Sarah screamed. And simultaneously her orgasm hit her, pumping and roaring. She was drowning. She couldn't see. She couldn't feel. She was no longer Sarah Williams at all.

Jareth wrenched his head free from the hands that had tangled in his hair, pulling his head away. He darted his tongue between Sarah's spasming walls before her hands fisted into his hair again, tearing him away. He straightened and looked disinterestedly at Sarah, lost in the fiercest orgasm of her life. Languidly he wiped his mouth on the back of his velvet glove before licking his lips. Carelessly he began to remove his gloves, pulling each finger up separately before discarding them over the back of the armchair. His eyes flicked over Sarah's face, taking in her ecstatic expression of fulfilment. Casually he undid the front of breaches, freeing his rock hard erection. With a captivating slowness and precision he approached Sarah's quivering body, and ran the back of his fingers down her jaw and watching her intently.

"Never forget that you are mine," he whispered, "forever. Forever and ever." He ripped away the remainder of the nightgown and he rammed himself into her.

Sarah's eyes flew open and her head jerked forward with the force with which he had entered her. Her world was being torn apart and made whole at the same time.

"You're mine," Jareth growled.

"I'm yours," Sarah gasped out, her arms clinging to Jareth's shoulder as though he was the only rock in a stormy sea.

"Forever and ever," groaned Jareth.

"Yes. Forever and ever yours," Sarah moaned in response.

Jareth stilled his brutal thrusting and as Sarah opened her eyes to look up at him he said in a voice completely devoid of any emotion, "I love you Sarah."

She blinked up at him, surprised at his brutal honesty. Slowly, she pushed herself up and just before she kissed him she could have sworn that a look of intense vulnerability filled his eyes. But when she pulled back and looked at him again there was no trace that it had ever been there.

"Sarah?" he said.

"Yes Jareth?" she could feel him, still rock hard and unreleased inside her. She wondered how he had the strength to stay still.

"I want to know you. I want you to be mine."

"I am yours Jareth, I'm always yours." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

He took a deep, steadying breath. "In every way," he ground out.

Then he brought his lips brutally back to hers, forcing her mouth open with his fingers and plundering her mouth. She could feel the fabric of his breaches creating friction against her thighs where they lay open, burning with the speed of his renewed thrusting. Sarah could feel the familiar coiling growing in the pit of her stomach as her pleasure rose almost to fever pitch. Jareth brought his lips close to her ear, wrapping his arms round her back and holding her close.

"In every way," he repeated quietly.

He withdrew completely. Sarah moaned at the loss of him, her release so near it was painful. She tried to pull Jareth back towards her but he caught her arms and spun her round, pushing her forwards over the dressing table. Jareth brought his hands slowly down her back to squeeze her pert arse cheeks. He leaned forwards over her, his hot breath ghosting against her ear.

"You have to relax," he whispered.

One of his hands dipped down to her entrance, drawing her juices upwards. His fingers traced round her puckered entrance, feeling heat and tightness. Jareth sighed in anticipation. He pushed a finger inside, up to the knuckle. Sarah's heart missed a beat as the adrenaline pumped into her blood. This scared her. Her climax, that had been so close only seconds before now seemed far distant and irretrievable. She whimpered.

Behind her Jareth smiled cruelly. His medallion scraped up her back as he leant forwards again, withdrawing his fingers.

"You're trapped, my dear," he mocked as she buried her face in embarrassment.

His hands snaked round to work her breasts, stroking and stimulating her nipples back to hardness. Then he began to push inside her. Jareth felt the tortuously slow sheathing of himself, felt her tense and then try to relax around him. It felt as if it would go on forever. He was so large, he was expanding her past any comprehension her brain could try to muster and yet still more of him seemed to be pushing inside. Until finally she felt the material of his shirt and breeches against her cheeks. Jareth pressed his chest against her back, reaching round her to lightly brush her clit. He pushed two fingers inside her. Then he added a third. He stroked at her inner walls, stroking himself as the thin walls of skin came into contact beneath his touch. A lazy smile spread over his face. She was completely and utterly his. He was filling her, possessing her every being, and all she could do was take it.

Sarah could not move. The burning, stretching sensation was almost intolerable and she had to keep herself from crying out. But the feeling of him inside her. Completely. Completely and utterly. Completely and utterly his. She moaned at the feeling of him stroking inside her. And when he began to move she felt herself begin to coil again, his fingers pumping in and out of her in time with his thrusts.

It didn't take him long to come, encased as he was in exquisite tightness and heat. He plunged his fingers into her once more, feeling her clench and shudder around him, before biting into the skin of her shoulder to silence his own moans. His fingers slipped out of her and brushed across her breasts, coating the nipples in her own juices before he pulled out of her completely and took the couple of steps backward to lean on the back of the armchair. He leant on his elbow, crossed one ankle over the other much in the manner of a clubman leaning casually on a bar top. He regarded her nonchalantly, waiting to see her reaction. Carelessly he regarded the fingernails of his right hand, before returning his gaze to Sarah where she still trembled, bent over the surface of the dressing table.

It was his eyes burning into her back that finally galvanised her into action. Slowly, shakingly, she pushed herself up on her arms, and took a steadying breath, wiping the mixture of tears and sweat from her cheeks with her hand. Little by little she turned to face him, unable to meet his eye. He looked so leisurely, leaning against the chair back with his perfect black clothes unruffled. The only sign of what had passed was the looseness of his breeches where they hung open beneath his shirt.

He regarded her coolly, wondering how far he could push her. His lips parted and a small sigh escaped him. He drew her gaze magnetically to his.

"Suck me," he said simply.

"What?" Sarah gasped in horror.

"I'm all covered in your come. Suck me clean." Jareth's eyes bored into hers, compelling and commanding, and she knew that once again, she could not refuse him anything he asked. Hesitantly she crossed to where he stood and knelt down before him. With trembling hands she undid the bottom two buttons on his shirt, tucking it out the way. She could see that he was hard again, pushing past his open breeches and reaching towards her. She licked her lips nervously and he twitched in response. Gingerly she leant forward and took his head in her mouth, running her tongue round his tip, tasting herself still on him. She rested her hands against his thighs. He reached down, guiding her hands and head gently until he felt himself tightening. Pushing her head away he turned his back on her, not wanting to scare her with this after all he had done that night.

Sarah looked away from him. Out of the window to where the first tendrils of dawn where beginning to creep their way through the blackness.

"Sarah?" Jareth's voice held warmth and tenderness. "Sarah are you all right?"

His arm snaked round her waist, lifting her to her feet. The arm was clad once again in the royal green of his dressing gown. He kissed the skin below her ear gently, soothing the livid bite mark that stood out against her pale skin.

"It's ok," she managed. "You don't'...you don't need to feel..."

He interrupted her, "I don't feel guilty Sarah. I never do. You have to remember that I am not human. And as such do not always behave in a human way." He drew her over to the armchair and pulled her onto his knee. He wrapped his arms round her as she rested her head down onto his shoulder, just as she had done earlier. Her arm moved up, her hand curling round the back of his neck as she moved her head to look up into his eyes.

"Jareth, I love you however you are. I fear you, and I love you. And I love it when you rule me. Never stop, do you understand?" she insisted, looking him straight in the eye. "Jareth, I have never felt so alive in my life. I would do anything for you, do you hear? Anything. Anytime, anywhere, anyhow. Forever and ever. Just so long as you are there."

"I'm here."

"I know."

"You're tired."

He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, pushing down the covers and laying her down. He shed his dressing gown and slipped in beside her, hugging her to him.

"One thing Jareth?" Sarah murmured sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"What brought on tonight's mood? What were you thinking about? What's troubling you?"

He pulled her over to him and kissed her gently, lips lingering over hers. She wasn't sure whether he was answering her question or merely observing when he said, "I have a kingdom to run. You have kept me from it long enough. I have been neglecting my people. Tomorrow I must return to them. For some of the day you may have to amuse..."

He tailed off; looking down into the peacefully sleeping face of the only woman he had ever truly loved. He kissed her again. Softly. And flopped onto his back, one arm pillowing his head as he watched the dawn creep quietly into the room, silently conquering the darkness and sending it fleeing to the furthest recesses. In hiding. He smiled wolfishly to himself in the cold grey light, rising silently and crossing to open the window. If part of her had enjoyed herself tonight, then a lot of fun lay ahead of them. He glanced back over his shoulder at her sleeping form, his eyes full of love and tenderness, and a need to be loved in return. He had never felt this vulnerability around anyone before. It scared and excited him. Exalted him. He jumped from the narrow window, soaring into the rising dawn and screeching his exaltation to the wind. She was his. Completely his. Forever and ever. And she loved him. And he loved her. He flew until the daylight had banished the last of the shadows from the Goblin City, looking down on his kingdom and basking in the glory of being truly alive.

A fluttering noise and a shift on the mattress caused Sarah's consciousness to decide to tiptoe back into her head. She opened her eyes. The window was open and the smell of the morning was filling the chamber. She became aware of a hand resting against her back and she turned, meeting the eyes of the Goblin King.

"Did you go somewhere?" she asked sleepily.

"No, my love, I'm right here with you," he whispered back softly.

"What time is it?" she asked, becoming aware that she could clearly make out the objects in the room, and that the fire had burnt down to almost nothing.

"Time to tell my Queen how much I love her," Jareth said, stroking his hand down her cheek, "before I get up to run our kingdom." His lips touched hers, once, softly, before he rose smoothly out of the bed, stretching himself like a cat.

"Our kingdom," Sarah whispered to herself. If Jareth heard, he didn't react. "Our kingdom," she said again, and smiled, rolling over in time to see Jareth, in his royal garb, fading silently from the room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, dear readers. I wasn't planning for Raemon to make a repeat visit as OCs tend to annoy me and I'd rather just know what Jareth and Sarah were up to *giggles naughtily*. However, he seems to have managed to sneak his way in here somewhere, although he is not going to detract anything from Jareth and Sarah. Promise. He is only there so that Jareth had a reason to be angry. Because angry Jareth is hot and sexy. And we all love hot sexy Jareth. Because that is why we're here right?**

**Enjoy, please review. xxx**

Sarah had dropped off to sleep again after Jareth had left to attend to the business of the day. Warm dreams involving sunshine and Hoggle swam before her eyes. Every now and again Didymus would appear and call out his greetings, before riding off on the back of Ludo, while Ambrosias stared at her and blinked stupidly. Sarah smiled as the sun grew brighter, warming her face. It grew brighter and brighter, the heat increasing until she had to shield her face behind her arms. And then out of the blinding heat strode a figure. Jareth swaggered toward her out of the sun, silhouetted but still easily recognisable. He reached out a hand for her and spoke. But the voice was not his.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm only dancing," Sarah replied, twirling her arms above her head.

"Young American Girl," he murmured, watching her with fascinated eyes. Eyes Sarah now noticed were the same colour, both startlingly blue. Now she looked again, his hair was dark too, and fell forward over those eyes.

Raemon stared at her. "Come with me, little Drowned Girl," he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a handful of what looked like sand.

"What's that?" Sarah asked, lowering her arms and spinning on the spot.

"It's the fall of Stardust," he replied, opening his fingers and letting the sand trickle between them. "Ashes to ashes," she heard him murmur.

Sarah paused in her twirling to watch with interest. The sand sprinkled down to land on the scrub land outside the gates of the Labyrinth where they now stood. It gathered together, forming a sphere, turning translucent as a fully formed crystal rose before Sarah's eyes. She stared into its depths. There was a figure in there, dressed in royal robes with its hands crossed over its hips. Jareth spun slowly in the crystal, looking at Sarah with sad eyes. The crystal rose slowly into the air, higher and higher until Sarah could no longer distinguish it from the sky. She looked back at Raemon.

"Where is he going?" she asked. Her voice sounded far away.

"He is going to join his ancestors," replied Raemon. He raised his arm and swept it in an arc and the sky turned dark. The stars shone brightly and Sarah could see one star, travelling upwards by itself to take its place in the heavens.

"No, no," Sarah cried, dropping to her knees and clutching at the bottom of Raemon's cloak. "No, bring him back, bring him back. He said he'd be here when the world falls down. He promised," Sarah sobbed. And then her world was falling in on itself. Raemon's cloak was dragged from her grasp, distance was opening up between them. She was falling.

Sarah opened her eyes. Tears clung to her face and her breath was coming in sobs. She rose and stretched herself before padding through to Jareth's washroom and turning the shower up high. As the hot water pelted down on her she found the memory of her dream was starting to fade. She could no longer remember why she had been so upset. She shook her head, laughing at herself. By the time she stepped out of the shower to wrap herself in a fluffy towel, she had completely forgotten that she had dreamt at all.

Jareth sat in his throne, one leg flung carelessly over the arm. He was scowling at his knees and tap tapping his riding crop against the leather of his boot. He was thinking his way through the paper work that lay on the table in his study, a lone quill the only thing left moving in that room as it scribbled its way across the page under Jareth's command. He thwacked his boot angrily, knowing that he should be doing this work properly, should be sitting in the study and being a good king.

He sighed heavily and reached into his shirt, drawing the source of his distraction out, unfolding the thick parchment and reading again the poisonous green lettering. It was a letter thanking The Lord King Jareth and the Lady Sarah for the immense pleasure afforded at the ball the previous night. And it was from Raemon. Certain phrases jumped out to Jareth's jealous eyes.

"Congratulate you on the impeccable figure of your wife," he spat, "I was afforded much chance to delight in it as she pressed herself against me. I hope she enjoys her sweet dreams." Jareth glowered, "You, dear cousin, have gone one step too far."

Jareth sprang to his feet, hurling his riding whip at an unfortunate goblin that had entered to ask him to approve the luncheon menu. How dare Raemon interfere with Sarah's dreams? It was the only magic he could do, but still. Sarah was his. Staring coldly at the whimpering goblin as it moaned and clutched its eye, he faded angrily from the room.

Sarah had managed to find her way back to the study. It hadn't been easy as she had managed to get stuck in the stairways of optical illusions. She had had to breathe deeply and count to ten more than once before she had found her way out, and it was only with the help of a passing goblin cleaner, who had been hurrying along with a stray chicken clutched under his arm, that she had found he correct door at all.

She was sitting in one of the leather armchairs, watching with interest the quill that was jumping and scratching all on its own. She wondered where Jareth was, for surely it was he who was controlling this quill, she reasoned. So why wasn't he here? All at once the quill, which up until now had been writing neatly in a regal purple, spluttered and the ink turned blood red. It scratched across the neat page of accounts in any angry jag, ripping through the parchment and scoring the desk below. Sarah jumped in shock. Something must have really angered Jareth for him to lose control like that. She looked towards the door, wondering whether she should find him and ask him what was wrong, only to see him standing before her, glowering something terrible. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut across her.

"To whom do you belong?" he demanded. "Who is your Lord? Who is the one you love?"

His voice rang from all sides, as though disconnected from the whereabouts of his body. He advanced towards her, anger in his eyes. Sarah thought back. She had done nothing to anger him so, not that she could recall. It followed logically that she was merely feeling the brunt of an anger conjured by someone else. She drew courage from this thought, and forced herself to meet his gaze steadily.

"You," she answered. "You to all three."

"Good," he snarled. "Prove it."

He advanced towards her, undoing the front of his breeches. Taking himself in one hand he reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her to the edge of her seat and forcing himself into her mouth. He tangled his other hand into hair, setting the pace and controlling her head as he pumped himself deep into her mouth. Sarah felt herself gagging as he struck the back of her throat, pushing himself further. She concentrated on relaxing, keeping her tongue swirling against him as he worked off his anger on her. He forced himself deeper.

"Swallow," he commanded, and Sarah did her best, the peristalsis where it started at the back of her throat squeezing and massaging him. Jareth groaned, letting his head fall back at the sensation, before recommencing his merciless thrust into her willing mouth. As he withdrew slightly Sarah took the opportunity run her tongue along the underside of his manhood, bringing it up to tease the slit on the end. Jareth tightened his hold in her hair, pushing her head into himself a few more times before he came with a violence stemmed in anger. This time he spared no thoughts for Sarah's feelings as he held her head in place, keeping himself encased in her hot mouth and forcing her to gulp down as much of him as she could.

As the last flutters of his orgasm died away, Jareth wrenched himself from her, ripping his hands away to do up his breeches. He swung over to the desk and tore the sheet of parchment away, crumpling it into a ball and hurling it into the fire. He spun on his heal, turning to face her as she sat panting for breath.

He spat, "I'm going to fetch Raemon," before disappearing from the room.

Sarah curled her legs up underneath her on the chair and wiped her mouth. She leant back, pondering. Raemon. Raemon. For some reason she felt she had a cause to be angry at him too. And then her dream came flooding back.

Sarah rose and crossed to the door. Opening she looked up and down the corridor, wondering which way could lead her to the throne room. She wanted to be there when Jareth returned.

**Ok, ok. Yeah I know, rubbish chapter ending, with not much happening the chapter. Much more to look forward to...and Jareth has found his riding whip. Woohoo!**


	17. Chapter 17

As Sarah approached the door to the throne room, after having become hopelessly lost in Jareth's irritating optical illusion again, she could here raised voices.

"Don't you ever interfere with her again," came Jareth's voice, filled with a power and authority that made Sarah tremble despite the fact that she was not even in the room.

"Oh ho, Cousin," came the usually smooth tones of Raemon, although his voice sounded a little strained, for all its mocking tone, "how jealous you are of a mere mortal wench. She is a whore, to be used and thrown away."

Jareth's roar of fury was accompanied by a crash and a cry of pain. Sarah burst into the room, intent on stopping Jareth before he went too far. The sight that met her eyes was one that she would never forget. It rooted her to the spot as the tendrils of magic that laced the air invaded her senses and overpowered her capacity for reason. She could almost taste it.

Raemon was spread-eagled in the manner of Da Vinci's Vetruvian Man, fifteen foot up in the air and pinned against the stone wall. Below him, with palm outstretched stood Jareth, holding him there with the sheer force of his magic. A sticky black substance was leaking from Raemon's lower lip and his tongue kept darting out to taste it. It was blood, Sarah realised.

Raemon strained his neck against the power that was holding him and his eyes darted to Sarah where she stood, frozen by the sight and force of such powerful magic. His eyes darted back to Jareth and his tongue snaked out to flick over his lip again.

"You see, she loves me Jareth. She can't keep away, can you love?" Raemon drew his lips into a horrible parody of a smile.

Jareth growled dangerously and he fingers of his outstretched hand twitched. Without looking at her Jareth spoke in a coldly controlled voice. "Sarah, my dear, I must ask you to leave. My cousin and I have some unfinished business we must attend to."

Sarah did not move, could not tear her eyes away.

"Ah, Sarah my love," crooned Raemon, "do not desert me. Come to me and press your womanly body to mine, and love me."

As he spoke Sarah found a vision filling her head. She was lying on a well kept lawn in front of a grand 18th century house, and she was naked. A man appeared. Raemon was dressed in nothing but his breeches as he crossed to her, lay down beside her and kissed her. His eyes swept appreciatively down her body. Sarah shook her head, this wasn't right. But Raemon pressed her into the grass, using his weight to hold her still as his hands moved from her hair down to her...

"No!" Jareth's cry of fury shook Sarah back to her senses. "I warned you Raemon, I warned you."

Raemon started to scream and writhe against the force that was pinning him against the wall. The fingers of Jareth's outstretched hand were closing, as though squeezing slowly down on something in his hand.

"Sarah, leave now!" he roared as Raemon's screams became more terrible, "LEAVE."

Sarah stood, watching in horror as some invisible vice seemed to be closing round the man pinned to the wall. She fought back the urge to be sick as she heard a rib crack, and then another. The sound of bone splintering and heavy breathing filled the throne room. And then suddenly she could stand it no longer.

"Jareth stop," she cried, rushing over and jumping on his back, seeking to wrestle him to the floor. He threw her off and she landed in a crumpled heap at his feet. "Jareth no, don't kill him," she begged, wrapping her arms around one of his legs and sobbing.

Jareth glanced down at her, loosening his fingers a little. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps you are right," he said in an offhand manner and drew back his hand sharply. Raemon dropped to the floor, sliding down the wall to lie broken at its base. Jareth turned away, shaking himself free of Sarah's grasp. "Deal with him then," he said shortly.

Sarah looked up at him and then across to Raemon. Tremblingly, she climbed to her feet and made her way cautiously over to where he lay. His breath was rasping through his lips and his face was filled with pain. He tried to push himself up as she approached, but his arms would not support his weight and he slumped back to the floor. Sarah knelt down in front of him. Ignoring the black blood that marked a trail from his lip to his shirt, she reached out a hand and turned his head to face her. Slowly, she brought his head towards her, looking at his mouth. She could feel his breath rasping over her lips as she shut her eyes, her mouth millimetres from his.

"No," she said suddenly, pulling back and getting to her feet, crossing to where Jareth stood watching. "Because I love Jareth." And she reached up to kiss his mouth, feeling his hands settle on her waist. Hands that still tingled with the aftershock of powerful magic. As he kissed her, Jareth opened his eyes and looked sideways at Raemon. His cousin was hunched on the floor, pain and longing written on his face as he tried not to watch. Jareth shut his eyes, kissing Sarah again before pulling away. When he spoke his voice was quite calm.

"I think you got the message," he said simply, "go back to your home. Let me love my wife." Jareth waved his hand in Raemon's direction and the other fae man vanished. Jareth stood looking at the spot where he had been for a few moments longer before turning slowly to face Sarah.

"And now to deal with you."

"Wh...what?" Sarah gasped, not understanding.

Jareth strode to his throne and retrieved his riding crop. He twirled it between his fingers, regarding Sarah thoughtfully.

"You disobeyed my orders," he said eventually, his tone one of silky smoothness. Dangerous. "I told you to leave and you did not. You disobeyed me." He began pacing towards her, looking at her levelly. "Fear me. Love me. _Do as I say._" He said with emphasis. "_You_ disobeyed me," Sarah saw his eyes darken a little, seeing the spark of lust that kindled there, "and so you must be punished," he whispered, his face only centimetres from hers.

Quick as lightening he grabbed her arm and spun her in a quarter turn, landing the riding stick in a harsh slap across her bum. He heard her let out a gasp, but when she turned her eyes to him he saw they had darkened with arousal.

Placing a hand on the back of her neck, Jareth pushed her down until she was crouched on all fours on the ground. Swiftly he lifted the skirts of her dress and lowered her knickers so that her arse was bared to him. He had to take a steadying breath when the smell of her arousal hit him hard as he pushed the stick between her knees, running it up until it was pressing hard against her. He withdrew it and swung his arm, landing it against her arse in a heavy slap, wet with her juices. Without warning he pushed two fingers deep inside her, keeping them there as he pulled her to her feet with his other hand.

"Walk," he commanded, pressing his two fingers deeper insider her, "we will go somewhere more suitable."

Jareth crossed his fingers inside her, then opened them away from each other, stretching her sensitive walls. Sarah stumbled and grabbed his shoulder to stop herself falling.

"Walk," he demanded again.

With each step that Sarah took Jareth thrust his fingers deeply inside her. The sensation of trying to walk with him there was almost too much to bear and she had to fight to keep her balance against the swirling dizziness he invoked in her. Once she fell and he landed her a sharp crack with the stick, the throbbing sending waves of arousal straight to the pit of her stomach. Jareth pulled her into the antechamber to stand on the disc that she had used on the night of her arrival. He pressed her hard against his chest, feeling the hammering of her heart and revelling in the slipperiness round his fingers.

As they rose into the air Sarah clung to Jareth for fear that her trembling and aroused state would cause her to fall. Jareth slipped his fingers out of her, running them up to her other, puckered opening. He ran his fingers lightly over it, chuckling deep in his belly as Sarah ducked her head in embarrassment. No matter how many times he did that, Sarah felt hat she would never truly get over the shyness it stirred in her. Jareth leaned back, almost causing Sarah to overbalance as he seemed to defy the laws of gravity. He tapped her legs apart a little with the riding crop before reaching round her again and jamming his finger into her puckered opening, right up to the knuckle. He laughed as she gasped in shock.

And then they reached the tower room. It had changed since Sarah had last been inside it. The central board was no longer there, but in its place was a simple wicker chair, with no armrests or aspects of comfort. Jareth crossed to the chair and sat down facing her.

"Strip," he ordered.

Slowly, Sarah began to pull off her dress, struggling as her hands became lost in the sleeves. Soon she stood before him in nothing but her bra and panties, black and slightly lacy, that Jareth had materialised for her before he left in the morning. She felt the heat rising in her body at the sight of his primal stare.

"Remove them," he growled, his voice deep and husky.

Sarah did as she was bidden, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her body. She stood before him, waiting. Jareth reached into the air and took hold of the golden handcuffs he had used on the night of her arrival. He motioned for her to turn round. He stood quietly and approached her. Admiring her figure as she stood before him. Leaning close, knowing she could feel the heat of his body by the involuntary shudder that ran through her, he whispered in her ear.

"I will teach you never to disobey me again. Hold out our hands."

Sarah held her wrists out behind her and felt the cuffs snap into place. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, trying to control her rising arousal. The thick black folds of a blindfold were lowered over her eyes and then she could see nothing. She felt Jareth walk round her, his gaze burning her flesh. And then she felt the whip. Jareth rested it onto her shoulder, running it slowly down one arm and back up. Sliding it over her breasts and down between her legs. She could feel his eyes following its movements.

Jareth grabbed her arm and marched her across to the chair. Sitting down on it he pulled her across his lap, holding onto her arms where they were cuffed behind her back. He could feel his erection pushing hard into her stomach and he smiled grimly to himself.

"Why do I need to punish you?" he growled.

"I disobeyed you, Goblin King," Sarah answered as the blood rushed to her head.

"Good," Jareth crooned. He raised the whip. And suddenly Sarah found the blood inclined to gather in another place in her body. Jareth beat down, raising red welts on the smooth skin of her behind, completely aware of how her breath was coming in pants and how her juices were making a damp patch on his breaches.

After about ten strokes, Sarah had lost count as the pleasure pain washed through her travelling straight to her heat, Jareth stopped hitting her. Calmly, he reversed the stick and pushed the thick, leather bound handle up inside her. He rotated it in a slow circle, feeling her shudder against his knees as more of her dampness soaked into his breeches. He pumped the whip into her a few more times, reaching down to press his gloved fingers against her clit. He brought her right to the edge and then stopped, withdrawing the whip slowly and freeing his fingers. He smiled in satisfaction as her groan of disappointment told him that his timing had been perfect.

"Stand up." Though his arousal was one that could rival hers, he managed to keep his voice fairly even.

Sarah pulled herself up, her shaking knees barely holding her. Concentrate, she thought, do as he tells you.

"Kneel before me," came Jareth's voice and as ever, Sarah complied.

Jareth stared at her, his hand running against his length through the fabric that covered it as Sarah knelt before him. He grew even harder at the sight, if that were possible; her submissive position and helplessness adding to his ever growing arousal. He unfolded himself from the chair and prowled over to her. Reaching down he undid the handcuffs, pulling her arms round in front of her and snapping them closed again. Jareth desperately wanted to take her, then and there, but this was supposed to be a punishment. He stepped away.

"Finish yourself off," he commanded.

Sarah felt the heat rush to her face. She wouldn't...she could never...

"Finish yourself off while I sit here and watch," he instructed again.

Her cheeks burning red, Sarah lowered her hands between her legs and started to stimulate herself. Biting her lip against the knowledge of his stare, she tried to imagine that it was Jareth's fingers and not her own that were currently pushing at her opening.

"Dear dear," came Jareth's amused voice, "not very good at this are we? You will have to try...harder. Think of my fingers, think of my tongue..." Jareth tailed off as Sarah's fingers began to move faster and with more purpose. Watching her intently, Jareth undid the front of his breeches, reaching down to his erection and rubbing himself in time to her rhythm. The expression on Sarah's face turned from one of mortification to one of pleasure as she pushed herself closer to her orgasm. When she came Jareth watched her face for a couple more seconds, before letting his own climax over-power him as he gritted his teeth to stop himself crying out.

When the last waves of pleasure had shuddered from his body, he fastened his breeches before, after glancing briefly at Sarah, waving his hand and clearing up the mess.

Sarah jumped at the feel of Jareth's hand on her shoulder and felt the queer rushing feeling that told her they were being transported. The handcuffs dematerialised and Jareth reached out to tenderly remove the blindfold from her face, shielding her eyes with his hand until they became accustomed to the bright light of his bathroom. He smiled gently down at her, bringing her lips against his before lifting her to her feet and pulling her gently into the shower. He stepped in after her, his clothes whispering from his body like ghostly smoke. The water was warm and soothing as Sarah stood beneath its flow. Jareth leant against the ceramic wall, watching her. He reached out his hand and lightly stroked his fingers down her cheek.

"Forever," he said softly.

Sarah scraped her hair back from her head, letting the water fall onto her face. "What?" she asked.

"Forever and ever." He joined her under the flow of water, bringing his lips tenderly against hers. The water poured down on them, clinging to his long eyelashes and running down their bodies. His hands ghosted over her shoulder blades, running down her back to rub lightly over the still tender flesh of her behind. His fingers caressed away the sting as he kissed her again. His hands stroked over her back as the centres of their bodies pressed against each other. He kissed her a third time.

"I must go," he whispered.

He turned and slipped out the shower, his clothes forming around him as he slid the panel door shut behind him. He closed the bathroom door quietly and leant against it, breathing deeply and gathering his thoughts. Resolutely, he opened his eyes. He did not return to the study but instead set off to perform some of the more practical duties that were required of him. He discovered to his surprise that only two goblins had unwittingly trapped themselves in the oubliette and that while the door itself was alright, one of the helping hands had chipped a nail and was moaning loudly about it. These and other tasks Jareth performed, relishing the distraction from the beauty that would again share his bed that night.

He returned to the castle only when it was time for dinner. He reached the study before Sarah, noticing that the quill now lay still and silent beside the jumble of papers on top of his desk. He crossed to it and began to sort through the paperwork. The ruined sheet of accounts he had already thrown on the fire, but the ones that had been completed previously were all in order. Shifting the pile of paper into a draw, he unwittingly dislodged a page he did not remember dealing with. It was covered in writing of a sensuous midnight blue that wove across the parchment with a startling clarity. Curious, he laid it under the light and sat down to read it.

It was a page of his thoughts. It was a page of rather illustrative thoughts about Sarah. About Sarah as she had been in the tower room that morning, and then later in the shower. Thoughts that he had hardly been aware he was thinking, but that caused a faint red to rise in his palorous cheeks as he read them back. He considered throwing it straight on the fire, but instead continued to read. He realised suddenly that he had never instructed the quill to stop following his demands, and that as such it had penned all that he asked of it up until the time that he had left the confines of his castle. He smiled to himself as he realised that he would have to be more guarded of his thoughts from now on, lest his accounts and other paper work become much more interesting than usual.

The door opened and Sarah came in. Jareth hastily shoved the paper into one of the draws in his desk. Sarah's eyes followed the guilty movement. He rose elegantly and crossed to Sarah, wrapping his arms round her and leaning back to look at her.

"How are you my dear? None the worse I trust?"

She smiled up at him and kissed him on the corner of the mouth.

"I'm famished," she stated, "let's eat."

Jareth seated her comfortably into a chair by the fire, drawing the table near. He waved his hand to summon the food and together they tucked in.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys. Sorry this has been so long, it was all the problems with my chapter updates. Boo. This is just a short filler to try to tide you over and stop you giving up hope of me ever updating. The next chapter is on its way. Promise. xxx**

As Sarah lay in Jareth's arms that night her thoughts were drawn to the relationship that was being cultivated between herself and the Goblin King. She loved his domineering attitude, and she realised now what she could not comprehend at the age of fourteen, that she loved to be ruled. Sarah turned gently in Jareth's embrace, not wanting to wake him. For once he had been the first to fall asleep, although she suspected that he rarely slept and only spent time in bed to be with her. Tonight however he had rolled off her after their sweet and gentle lovemaking wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. Sarah had listened as his breathing had dropped to the steady rhythm of one in deep sleep. She was glad that he had found peace tonight, although after the events of the day Sarah found herself unable to settle. It wasn't that she had minded Jareth's own behaviour; on the contrary she had enjoyed it immensely. The problem lay in her second meeting with his cousin Raemon. The ease with which he had penetrated her mind, not once, she now realised, but twice...trapping her in her worst nightmares, horrors in which she did not have Jareth.

Sarah reached out a hand and traced her finger tips over his face. She bit her lip as she felt tears spring in the corner of her eyes at the thought that she might one day be parted from him.

"Never, ever leave me," she whispered quietly to Jareth's sleeping form.

She felt the need to memorise his body, to know every inch of how he was so that she would be able to picture him whenever she felt the need. She ran her fingers, featherlike, down his neck to the muscled contours of his chest. The tears sprang deeper in her eyes as her hands reached his stomach, causing an involuntary flutter on the sensitive skin there.

Somewhere in the depth of his subconscious Jareth felt a deep love and pain. His consciousness stirred and he became aware of a light caress on his lower stomach. Unnoticed he opened his eyes. Sarah was running her hands over his chest and stomach with a concentration of one committing something to memory. Her beautiful green eyes were brimming with tears and e felt a tug at his heart at the sight of her pain. When a tear leaked out to run down her cheek Jareth could hold back no longer and reached out to wipe it away.

"Sarah, why the tears?" A horrible thought occurred to him, "You did not like...did not enjoy..."

Sarah shook her head. "It's just...I couldn't bear it if you were not here. You are my life. Raemon showed me a dream...before you met with him...it...he...you were dead. I could not bear it. It tore my soul apart."

"Oh Sarah. I'm here." He leant over and kissed her gently. She smiled a wobbly smile back at him.

"I wouldn't mind if I never saw him again."

"I know. He has misused you terribly."

Jareth stared up at the ceiling, wondering what he could say to make her feel better.

"Sarah?"

"Yes Jareth?"

"Tomorrow we are going to the Labyrinth. I want you to experience her beauty, as you already know of her anger." He smiled at her. "And Sarah?"

"Yes Jareth?"

"I'll be there for you when the world falls down."

"Don't let go of me Jareth."

He wrapped his arms possessively round her and kissed her gently.

"Sleep well, my dear," he murmured into her hair.


	19. Chapter 19

**OK, so here it is. Chapter 19. My longest chapter yet. Sorry it has been such a long wait for it. I was writing on the train when someone I knew got on and started talking, so I had to close the file quickly. So that delayed it a bit, as did the whole chapter adding thing and having to delete the entire story. Oh well, excuses excuses. Jareth was having quite a few mood swings when I wrote this chapter and though I did try to reason with him as much as possible, he did insist on an outlet to vent his anger...you have been warned.**

**Please read and review. I love reviews. They are what make me feel bad if I don't update quickly, so more reviews will mean quicker updates, because if I think no-one is reading then there doesn't seem much point in updating. THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED, ADDED STORY ALERTS ETC, I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

**So anyway – ON WITH THE STORY *grins and does superman arm thing***

When Sarah awoke she could feel Jareth's warm breath ghosting against her cheek. She glanced sideways at him and smiled. He appeared to be deep in sleep. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards her, a contented smile traceable on his lips. The hand closest to her was lying by her shoulder, fingers woven through her hair. He looked so happy. Sarah lent across and kissed him gently on the lips. The ghost of a smile grew and his gorgeous eyes flickered open.

"Mmmm. Hello," he murmured, disentangling his fingers from her hair and stroking them along the line of her shoulder. Sarah pulled herself up onto her elbow and smiled down at him.

"I love waking up with you," she told him sincerely.

He ran the back of his hand down her side and over her hip, sliding smoothly over the silk of her knee length night dress, before lifting back to curl round her neck and pull her head down for another kiss. He smelled of sleep and magic and excitement. Sarah inhaled deeply as she rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms round him. Jareth sighed and shut his eyes, a contented tranquillity washing through his being. He kissed her head and hugged her body to him. There was a tap on the window.

Sarah looked round, startled. Sitting on the window sill was a small swallow, which cocked its head to one side and regarded her thoughtfully for a few seconds before shaking out its feathers and flying away. Jareth hugged her tightly and then released her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stretching. Sarah admired his form as he crossed to the window and looked out across his kingdom. He turned back and, catching her appreciative look quirked his eyebrow. For some reason he reminded her of the swallow cocking its head and smiled cheekily up at him.

"Come now Sarah," Jareth's silky voice chided gently, "there will be plenty of time for," he paused, looking for the word, "fun and games...later. For the moment however, rise, dress and make ready to see my kingdom."

So saying he spun on his heal back to the window, dressing himself in shirt, breeches and boots as he did so. Sarah smiled riley and scrambled down the bed. To her surprise, when Jareth waved his hand, it was not a dress such as she had become accustomed to wearing that appeared, but a long sleeved blouse and a pair of old, stonewash jeans. Instead of elegant slippers Jareth had chosen practical walking shoes, and the underwear was much more functional than it had ever been before. Jareth caught her look of surprise and grinned to himself. She was going to love this.

When she was dressed Sarah crossed to the window where Jareth still stood. It was thrown wide open and the fresh smell of the air blew gently into the room. Jareth snaked his arm round her waist and lent down to ask, "Are you ready?"

Sarah nodded and Jareth folded his hand, opening it to display a crystal. He blew it gently from his fingers so that it hovered outside the window. It began to grow, gold mist swirling in its depths. When the crystal had reached the size of a car the mist started to solidify and Sarah strained her eyes to see what it was to become. A muscular body, elegant legs, strong beating wings, defined ears and a delicate head. A horse. With the wings of an albatross. Outside the window. His forelegs curled as though leaping through the air, his great wings beating in a steady rhythm so that he rose and fell a couple of feet at each of their strokes.

Sarah gasped in delight and leant out the window to brush her finger against his wingtips. She stumbled slightly and Jareth caught her round the waist, preventing her from falling from the window. He spun her round, laughing at her happiness.

"Meet Elixsyure." Jareth could have watched the delight on her face for eternity. "He is going to take you on our tour. Don't worry," he reassured as he saw Sarah look doubtfully at the drop from the window, "he won't let you fall. Close your eyes." Jareth took advantage of the fact that the girl of his dreams stood before him with her eyes shut and leant in to kiss her. "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you."

Jareth reached into the air and withdrew another crystal, which he expanded and formed around Sarah. He blew it gently from the window to hover in mid air. Sarah felt a warmth of a living thing beneath her, could feel rippling muscle of immense power.

"Open your eyes."

Sarah laughed in delight at the spectacle that met her eyes. Sitting astride Elixsyure she was perhaps one hundred feet above the smooth surface of the castle lawn, and Jareth was looking out at her from his bedroom window.

"This is amazing," she breathed, running her hand down Elixsyure's smooth, glossy shoulder, the powerful beat of his wings sending waves of energy through their bodies. The wind swirled round her, pulling at her hair and whipping away her exclamation of delight. Jareth leant form the window and called out to her.

"Are you ready to go?"

"To go and never stop," Sarah called back through the smile that was stretching her face.

Jareth laughed and swung his legs over the sill.

"Then let's go," he shouted.

He jumped. Sarah screamed. Sarah watched him plummet to the ground, Elixsyure diving with him. Sarah was convinced that he would hit the clean grass and stared in horror, unable to shut her eyes, but at what seemed like the last second he twisted in the air, spreading grey white wings and soaring upwards, circling above them. She heard him shriek.

Laughing in happiness she called out, "One day you'll miss time that."

Jareth swooped down, brushing her cheek with his wing tip and shrieking again. He spun away; loop the looping in the air before streaking off towards the loch.

"Show off!" shouted Sarah, but she still couldn't stop smiling as Elixsyure beat his powerful wings and set off in pursuit of the owl. They flew low over the loch, Elixsyure's hooves skimming the surface and sending up great rainbows of water on either side. The water sprinkled Sarah's face and she turned towards it, seeing the gold shimmers of reflection dancing all round her.

Jareth swooped and soared, diving down to the surface of the lake before spiralling up. He stared down at Sarah from above, his owl eyes picking out every detail of delight on her face, seeing her fingers knotted through Elixsyure's mane, her legs wrapped round his body. Jareth was so happy, as though past unpleasantries or future worries were the stuff of imagination. Lifting high into the air again, leading Elixsyure with him, he set off across the walls of the goblin city and out over the Labyrinth.

Sarah looked down at the maze of walls and hedges beneath them, seemingly never ending. Glancing back over her shoulder she could see the castle in the centre, atop its mound, the city encircling it. From here Sarah could see a beauty that had not been visible all those years before. The intricate design and faultless craftsmanship that she had come to associate with Jareth's skilled magic were all plain to see, even down to the elegant tower that they were passing now. Three figures stood atop the tower, waving energetically. Through the wind Sarah thought she heard their calls.

"There she goes."

"Good ridings, Fair Lady."

"Sawa fwend."

Sarah waved back, the wind whipping away her call as they passed over the tower and flew on. Sarah could now see that they were heading towards an opening in the Labyrinth maze, a spot clear of walls or hedges. Smooth grass and a stream could be seen, and what looked like a grand summer house. A winding path led from a small waterfall to the pillars supporting its overhang roof.

Elixsyure was losing height, spiralling down towards the idyllic spot, hidden in the heart of his Labyrinth, to which Jareth had led them. Elixsyure landed smoothly, hooves coming lightly into contact with the ground and slowing to a sedate walk. He furled his wings up across his sides, enveloping Sarah's legs in the warm, downy feathers of their undersides. Sarah stroked his neck and slid gently down to the ground, looking up into the sky to see where Jareth was. He swooped down to her, swishing the wind through her hair but staying just out of her reach. Sarah tried to catch him from the air, but he darted away. She danced round, trying to catch hold of him.

"Oi, come here you," Sarah laughed as she danced round and Jareth spiralled out of her reach once again, "come here so that I can tell you how much I love you."

There was a swoosh and then Jareth's arms wrapped round her from behind, catching her by surprise. "As My Lady wishes," he spoke into her hair.

He pushed his lips against the nape of her neck, inhaling her wonderful scent and placing kisses above the collar of her blouse. His hands slid up to rest on her rib cage, just below her breasts as he strained her to him. She could feel his heart thumping against her back, its steady rhythm solid and comforting.

"Oh Sarah," he breathed.

Sarah turned to face him. His hair looked windswept, but still perfect and oh so gorgeous. His mismatched eyes were a light with excitement, and joy at the sight of her happiness. He had never dared to hope that he could have made her this happy. Sarah grinned up at him. She brought her lips to within a millimetre of his, blowing her warm breath across his lips. She pulled away and Jareth leant closer towards her.

"Nah ah," Sarah laughed, tearing herself from his embrace and dancing away, "not that easy. Got to catch me first."

"Sarah Williams," Jareth laughed back, "just wait until I get you."

He sprang towards her but she leapt out his way so that his hand clasped at nothing. She ran off down towards the waterfall, and Jareth set off in pursuit. She danced out of his reach and spun away from him as he tried to grasp her. Jareth smiled, tiring of this game. As Sarah darted out of his reach again, glancing over her shoulder to laugh back at him, she ran straight into his chest where he had materialised right in front of her. His strong arms wrapped round her and his mouth forced its way down onto hers before she could protest. He pushed his tongue through her teeth, claiming her mouth and duelling with her tongue. When they at last surfaced, Sarah was gasping for breath. She staggered backwards until her back hit a tree and she leant against it panting.

"That was soooo cheating," Sarah moaned jokingly.

Jareth quirked his eyebrow at her. "Unfair, was it?" he asked sardonically. "I'll show you unfair."

Suddenly Sarah found that the bark of the tree was pressing against her naked back. Warm from the sun. She discovered that she could not mover her arms and glanced down to see a thick rope wound round her body, pinning her to the tree.

Jareth regarded her with an amused smile on his face. "Stuck, are you?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Need your, handsome prince," he ran a hand through his tousled hair, "to come and rescue you do you?"

Sarah glowered good naturedly at him. "You...you...cheater," she shouted at him.

"Now now," crooned Jareth, stepping close to her. "Is that anyway to speak to the only person who could possibly release you?" he raised an eyebrow, walking slowly round the tree 'til he stood by her shoulder. "Or maybe you don't want to be released," he suggested smoothly, "maybe," he stepped in front of her again, running his hands down her shoulders, "I should just leave you here."

He turned, as though about to walk away.

"No!" Jareth paused in his stride, a wicked smile on his face which he fought to conceal as he turned back towards her.

"Yes?" he said silkily, regarding his black velvet gloves as though bored.

"Goblin King, Goblin King, please release me. Do not leave me here to the mercies of the beasts."

Jareth stepped up against her, pushing her back into the rough bark of the tree. "Your wish is my command, dearest Sarah, as always. But first I must claim my reward."

He pressed his lips against hers, opening her mouth and bringing his tongue down to massage hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands stroked down her sides to rest on her hips. His own clothes whispered their way into nothingness as he leant against her, breath hot against her mouth.

"Your reward, sir, is yours to claim," Sarah gasped, the swirling mists of arousal causing dizziness as her finger nails dug into the bark.

Jareth's hands had been caressing down Sarah's breasts but at this he pushed her legs apart and pressed himself into her. Bracing his hands against the tree on either side of Sarah's head he set a punishing rhythm, desperately seeking climax. As he drove into her Sarah could feel the rough bark, the chaffing of the rope, the stretch of her muscles as she strained on tiptoe to accommodate him, and it all seemed to add to the coiling in her belly, the rising tide of pleasure that was about to engulf her.

Jareth roared out his orgasm, vanishing the rope and catching Sarah as her legs gave way, sinking down onto the grass and cradling her in his arms until her own orgasm subsided. Sarah opened her eyes and grinned up at him.

"Wow," she said.

"Sarah my dear," Jareth answered, "I could not have put it better myself." He kissed her lightly on the nose. "Come for a swim," he said, rising to his feet and tugging at her hand.

As Sarah walked with him to the pool below the waterfall she marvelled at how he could still seem so sophisticated and elegant when walking through a garden with no clothes on. He still seemed regal and in control, even when lost in the passions of lovemaking. He still retained his kingliness. Sarah wove her fingers through his a squeezed his hand. She still felt wonderment every time he touched her without his gloves. The charge of raw magic sent tingles through her, igniting all sorts of feelings and emotions with the supreme sense of power they held. And when he touched her breasts, or her... Sarah gasped and withdrew her hand sharply as a surge of power seemed to throb through Jareth's hand with the force of electrocution. She glanced at her fingers, but they were clean and undamaged. Jareth smiled at her apologetically.

"Sorry," he offered. "When I feel strong emotion it sometimes seems to manifest itself in power surges of magic. I will try to control myself with more success in future."

Sarah nodded and gingerly raised her hand. She ran it down to the small of his back. Jareth glanced at her in surprise. He stepped down into the clear water, moving out until it reached just below the points of his hips. He held out his hand to her, inviting her to join him. Sarah stepped gingerly into the water, expecting it to be icy cold. Instead she found that it swirled around her in a refreshing sort of a way, not warm, but perfectly comfortable. She waded out to join Jareth.

Jareth took Sarah's hand as she reached him and led her over to the waterfall. Together they stood beneath the torrent, the weight of the water massaging their shoulders and washing away the signs of their lovemaking. As he stroked his hand down her back, Jareth watched Sarah through lashes half closed against the fall of the water. She was the most beautiful thing in the world, he thought, both above and below ground. He leant in and kissed her tenderly.

"Sarah Williams," he said softly and despite the roar of the waterfall she could hear him quite clearly, "you are the most beautiful thing in the world, both above and below ground." He ran his hands up her arms as he looked into her eyes. "Come, we don't want you to catch cold."

He led her out from beneath the torrent of water to the bank, helping her out and reaching into the air to produce a large towel, which he wrapped round her shoulders. When she was dry he dropped it, but it vanished before it hit the ground, and Sarah found herself dressed once more, although this time in a simple white dress of what felt like cotton. She looked up at Jareth. He was now wearing a pair of brown breeches and black boots. His chest was bare, although his medallion hung from its chain round his neck. Annoyingly, his hair too was perfect.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, gesturing to where a rug was laid out and a picnic hamper stood.

Sarah realised that she was famished, having forgotten all about breakfast in the excitement of Jareth's surprise trip. They reclined on the blanket and ate the best picnic that Sarah had ever tasted. She was amazed at what came out of the basket. There was no way that it could all have fitted. Jareth chuckled at the sight of her incredulity as he reached back into the empty basket and pulled out what appeared to Sarah to be a perfectly made ice cream Sunday. Reaching down again Jareth conjured a long spoon which he handed to Sarah.

"Aren't you having one?" Sarah asked, looking back expectantly to the basket.

"I only brought one," Jareth answered smoothly.

"Then I suppose we'll have to share," Sarah announced and Jareth smiled smugly. He had been hoping she would say that.

He shifted over to where she was reclining. Maintaining steady eye contact with her, he leant forward, swirling his tongue suggestively through the ice cream. Sarah giggled and blushed. His action had reminded her of something else he had once done with his tongue, only a few nights before. To ease her embarrassment, she took a spoonful of the ice cream herself. Jareth watched her carefully.

"You've got a bit on your lip," he stated, reaching out to catch the hand she raised to wipe it away. "I'll get it for you."

Leaning close to her he traced the tip of his tongue along her lip.

"All better," he announced, but as he drew back he deliberately jostled the hand that held the ice cream. It was melting in the warm sun and a small dollop fell from the glass to land on Sarah's exposed collar bone, trickling down beneath the neck line of her dress. Jareth regarded the result smugly.

"Oh dear," he said silkily, "you seem to have more on you."

Removing the ice cream from her hands and placing it to the side, freezing it with a spell so that it would not melt, Jareth pushed Sarah back on the rug, moving himself to hover over her. He brought his lips against the mess on her collarbone, sucking the area clean. He moved his hands to the fastenings at the front of her dress, slowly undoing one button at a time and licking and sucking away the creamy track. Soon his head was buried between her breasts and he could not help but to raise his hands to her breasts, massaging them through the cotton bodice. Sarah moaned and shifted her legs slightly, needing pressure against her now throbbing clit. Jareth understood and without raising his head he pushed his knee between hers, so that his thigh pressed against the pulsing Sarah could feel between her legs. Jareth curled his fingers around the open edges of Sarah's bodice and pulled it apart, exposing Sarah's breasts to his hungry gaze. He reached over for the spoon and dropped some freezing ice cream onto Sarah's nipples. He glanced at Sarah, who was watching him through half closed lashes, before lowering his head down and working his tongue to thoroughly clean away any traces of sweet treat. Sarah moaned in desire as Jareth's tongue swirled round her erect nipple, her hands fisting in the folds of the picnic blanket. She could feel his own arousal pushing hard against her thigh as she rubbed herself gently against him. Something he had said earlier came back to her.

Sarah sat up and pushed him off her, feeling the throbbing between her legs worsen in protest. Jareth flopped onto his back and sighed in acceptance.

"I thought we were supposed to be sharing the ice cream," Sarah complained. "At the moment you're getting it all."

Jareth grinned up at her, his erection clearly visible through the figure hugging breeches. Sarah picked up the spoon and dropped a dollop of ice cream onto the centre of his chest. She sat up and beckoned to him to come and kiss her. As he pulled himself up and placed his lips over hers, the ice cream tracked down his torso, leaving a sticky trail that disappeared into his waistband.

Sarah pushed him back down and placed her lips against his chest. Jareth shut his eyes, his face pulled into a grimace as she made her way ever so slowly down his body towards his waistband, licking and sucking as she went. When she reached the point where the trail disappeared beneath fabric she paused, glancing up at him. He nodded once and she carefully undid the fastenings of his breeches, easing them down to his thighs and freeing his erection. The trail of ice cream stopped just short of the blond hairs at its base. Sarah brought her mouth back against his lower stomach, the sensitive skin fluttering under her touch. When she had finished she looked back at Jareth and he groaned in frustration, the feeling of his rock hard cock almost unbearable. Sarah grinned at him tauntingly before reaching out a finger and scooping up the last of the ice cream, smearing onto his throbbing erection.

Jareth gritted his teeth to hold back the moan at the feeling of the iciness. Sarah's fingers lightly drew patterns on him as she spread ice cream up and down his considerable length. Then she lowered her mouth to him. She lapped carefully at the mess on his sensitive underside, barely touching him and causing him to bite back another moan of frustration. She swirled her tongue round him, tasting the mixture that was ice cream and Jareth. And finally she engulfed him in her mouth, relaxing her throat and taking in as much of him as she could. Jareth nearly came then and there, jerking his hips in reaction to her hot mouth. When he thought he could bear it no longer he pulled her back up to him, claiming her mouth with his. He could taste the ice cream still on her tongue and swirled his tongue through her mouth, savouring the flavour. He manoeuvred them round so that he was half on top, pulling up her skirt and removing her panties with a wave of his hand. Without breaking the kiss he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed slowly and gently into her. His rhythm this time was slow and languid, prolonging the feeling of heat and tightness and pleasure beyond belief.

Sarah wrapped her legs round his lower back, drawing him deeper as he kissed her lips and her eyes, and her lips again. For all his sweetness towards her, Sarah realised that this was the first time that their lovemaking had truly been slow and unhurried. He pushed himself deep into her again and Sarah moaned at the intense pleasure, feeling herself draw close. When she came it was not with the intensity of their previous couplings, but with the warmth and security and love of one who trusts absolutely in their partner. Jareth buried his face in the crook of her neck, a sigh of pleasured relief escaping him as his own orgasm swelled and subsided in turn. He lay still for a few moments, before withdrawing and easing his weight off Sarah's body. He smiled at her.

"Desert was by far the best part of the meal," he said with conviction as she settled her head against his chest. He lay and looked up at the sky, watching the cloud formations and basking in the heat of the underground sun. He looked down at Sarah. She had fallen asleep, one arm thrown across his chest and a blissful smile on her face. Gently, so as not to wake her, he eased himself away from her and waved his hand over her so that she was once more dressed in the blouse and jeans. He stood up and adjusted his breeches, reaching into the air and pulling out a white poet's shirt which he pulled over his head, leaving it open to his naval. He looked down at Sarah again but she seemed to be sleeping contentedly.

Jareth set off across the smooth grass to the summer house. Elixsyure was grazing in a little clump of trees, as though he had moved in attempt to give Sarah and Jareth some privacy which, Jareth thought, was probably just what he had done.

Placing his hand against the rough hewn wood of the summer house door Jareth closed his eyes for a moment. Something in the mechanism clicked and the door swung open. The single room inside was dark compared to the sunlight of outdoors and he stood on the threshold for a few moments letting his eyes adjust. The whitewashed plaster walls gave the room a slightly cold feel, and the sparse furniture added to the sense of emptiness. The modest double bed was spread with a red patterned wool blanket and the wooden dresser held a few chipped plates. Beside the bare arched windows stood slim line tables on which rested vases of flowers while a few modest kitchen type chairs stood against the walls. A small circular table held some half burned candles, fitted into the only elaborate thing in the room, an ornate candle holder. The wood panelled floor however was free from dust and no ash was present around the wood burning stove in the corner. Jareth crossed the empty floor and stood looking at the centre piece picture that hung on one wall. It showed a picture of a girl with luxurious brown hair that swirled over her shoulder and deep green eyes that stared into his soul. She was wearing a dark, velvety looking, loose fitting dress that hung low, exposing one of her soft shoulders and the top of her breast. Jareth rested a hand on the unpretentious desk that stood beneath and to the side of the frame as he stared into the girl's eyes. The picture hung at a slight angle, a contradiction to the otherwise ordinary, tidy state of the room. Jareth reached out a hand and traced the inscription on the gold plate attached to the frame. He knew the words by heart.

_The Coming Champion: Bride of Jareth, future King of the Goblins_

The picture was dated some three thousand years before his own birth.

Jareth turned away from the picture of Sarah, crossing once more to the wooden doors and stepping back into the sunshine. He waved his hand over the doors and they swung shut, the locking spell clicking back into place.

Sarah was still asleep when he returned and crouched down beside her. He smiled and brushed her hair from her face before lifting her gently into his arms. As he rose with her, she muttered something in her sleep and wrapped her arm round his neck. Jareth kissed her lightly on the forehead. He whistled to Elixsyure, who came trotting out of the trees at his master's summons. Carefully, Jareth lifted Sarah up onto Elixsyure's back before climbing up behind her and wrapping his arms tightly round Sarah's waist as her weight leaned back against his chest. Jareth closed his legs softly on Elixsyure's flanks and the great horse bounded into the air, his immense wings unfurling and lifting them into the sky. Jareth closed his eyes as he brought his lips tenderly to the nape of Sarah's neck, breathing deeply and inhaling the scent of her skin.

As they arrived back at the castle Jareth created a crystal that formed round Sarah, carrying her to his great four-poster and tucking her in, before transporting himself the few feet to his window sill. He drew a crystal from the air and blew it out to Elixsyure, who faded into the gold mist in its depths. Jareth sighed and crossed to the bed. Leaning down, he kissed Sarah softly on the lips before vanishing from the bedroom to the study, to return to the more tedious aspects of running his kingdom.

It was perhaps only a couple of hours later that Sarah awoke to find the early evening dusk to be creeping into the chamber. She rolled over and stretched and, finding herself to be alone, rose to look out of the window. The sun was setting over the Goblin City, casting weird shadows in the narrow streets and painting the whole scene in a surreal light. Sarah left the room and wandered down the corridor, wondering vaguely where Jareth might be. Finding herself in the hall of optical illusions, she focussed her mind on where she wished to go and, concentrating hard, managed to negotiate her way out of it in less than ten minutes. Finding herself outside the study door, she pushed it open.

The fire was dancing cheerfully and the desk light was illuminating the quill where it was again dancing across the jumbled sheets of parchment on the desk. Sarah crossed to an armchair and curled her feet up underneath her. She remembered vividly what had occurred the last time she had been here, in such a similar situation to this. She thought over what it had led to and blushed at the memory of what it had felt like to blindly get herself off while Jareth's eyes had bored into her flesh. Her mind turned to the evening that had followed, how Jareth had hidden a page of parchment in his desk draw as she had entered the room. She frowned, wondering what it could have been.

Curiosity piqued, Sarah rose and crossed to the desk and began opening the draws, searching through the littered contents for the page Jareth had hidden from her view. At the bottom of the last draw she found a crumpled sheet, covered in writing of a sensuous midnight blue. She glanced at the scribbling quill. It was the same handwriting. Jareth's handwriting. Intrigued, she crossed round to behind the desk so that she could spread the page beneath the light. She began to read.

Jareth sensed Sarah wake and leave his chamber. He guessed that she would look for him in the study, as it was the only room she could find without too much trouble when starting from his bedroom. Rising from his throne where he had been morosely observing his boots and instructing the quill in his accounts, he set off towards the study with the idea of seeing Sarah and sharing a pre dinner drink.

Sarah was shocked by what she was reading. Why would Jareth write something like this? It was a bit sick, in her opinion, to sit down and write a piece like this only moments after engaging in some of the hottest and most violent sex that could exist. And it was so rambling and incoherent, not like the smooth suavity that graced everything else Jareth created. That was when it struck her. This was not a thoughtfully constructed literary work. This was the jumble of his thoughts. His thoughts as they had engaged in that erotic scene of punishment. Thoughts about her, accidentally dictated to the quill. She was about to return the parchment to its draw, embarrassed by her trespass on Jareth's most intimate level of consciousness, when the door opened.

"Ah Sarah my dear, you are up I see." Jareth was looking at the table by the armchairs on which he had just materialised a tray of drinks and ice sticks, "I came to see if you would join me in a...Sarah what are you doing?" Jareth's voice changed from the cheerful tone of his entrance to one that held the icy edges of danger.

Sarah had spun round and hidden the parchment behind her back as he had entered. She struggled to reply, unable to meet his eye.

"I...I...I was just..." she stammered.

"Show me what you were looking at."

The danger was now so clear in his voice that it felt as though the room had frozen solid. The air turned to ice in Sarah's lungs as she extended the trembling hand that held the parchment. Jareth stared at it in cold fury, before flicking his gaze with such ferocity at the quill that it froze solid, falling to the desk and shattering in a thousand tiny shards of ice.

"That is my private business. It was in my desk. You had no right."

Jareth was advancing slowly toward her and Sarah shrank back against the solid desk.

"I know...I'm sorry... I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean to what? Didn't mean to pry? Didn't mean to sneak? Didn't mean to betray my trust?"

He was invading her personal space now, causing her to cower away from him.

"No Jareth," she sobbed, "I love you. I would do anything for you."

Jareth drew back a little and regarded her thoughtfully.

"Yes Sarah, I believe you would," he answered icily. "However, we must put it to the test. You must learn to fear me. Your actions show a lack of trust. You will demonstrate your trust. Won't you?"

Sarah nodded vehemently. "Yes Jareth," she managed to say.

"I am your master. Your King."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Jareth reached into the air and produced the soft black blindfold. Stepping close to her so that his breath blew across her lips, he reached round her and tied it in place, her large green eyes disappearing behind the heavy fabric. She bit her lip at the knowledge of some punishment to follow, feeling herself grow wet in anticipation. She cried out as a stinging slap landed across her cheek. Jareth's voice growled in her ear.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," she gasped, fighting the tears of small pain that threatened to overpower her.

His breath was hot against her ear as he leant his cool cheek against her red, stinging one.

"Good," he whispered.

Jareth pulled away from Sarah where she clung to the edge of his desk.

"Remove your clothes and turn round," he ordered.

His eyes travelled appreciatively up and down the lines and curves of her body as she removed her garments, seeing the flush of her embarrassment on the back of her neck as she turned round. He pushed her forwards over his desk, spreading her arms wide and securing them with lengths of what felt like the same cloth as that of the blindfold. He pushed her knees apart, stretching her wide and securing her ankles to the desk's legs. Sarah could hardly move an inch. She was completely helpless. At his mercy. And the thought turned her on even more.

Jareth crossed to the fireside table and retrieved something from the tray on which the drinks sat. Sarah heard his footsteps move behind her once more before she heard his silky smooth voice.

"You liked the ice this afternoon," he crooned. "How about some more of the same?"

Something hard and freezing cold pressed against her puckered entrance, pushing into her and causing her to writhe against her bonds. It was painful and cold and hot and wonderful all at the same time. Pushing deep within her until she could feel the following finger withdraw. One of the ice sticks, Sarah realised. Through the haze of cold pain-pleasure she heard Jareth's footsteps retreat and return again, and then felt ice cold pressure against her clit. She cried out, her body jerking wildly as part of her struggled to escape from what she knew was coming next.

"Come now Sarah," Jareth's singsong voice came, "it's not that bad. No more than you deserve."

And he jammed the second piece of ice into her, pushing until the freezing touch hit her cervix and she moaned at the sensation, melting ice mixing with the juices that were dripping onto the floor. He stood back and regarded her thoughtfully. Jareth reached into the air once more and withdrew the device he had used when Sarah had first arrived. Quickly fixing it in place he ordered the protrusions so swell and vibrate, pumping rhythmically into her while the slot tightened and loosened around Sarah's clit. He smiled in satisfaction at the groans issuing from Sarah's prostrate form, and raised his hand, vanishing the restraints and blindfold.

Sarah slumped to the ground, writhing and twitching as the sense of stimulation overpowered her. Jareth knelt down next to her and pulled her close so that he could whisper in her ear.

"You will not come," he said.

Jareth sent wave after wave of magic through the device and into Sarah, watching her pleasure pain at the sensation of over stimulation without release. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sight of the sweat starting on her skin, the slickness forming between her thighs and the erotic gasps and moans which she emitted. Several times she tried to raise herself up, but the sensations were too much and she flopped back to the ground. At last, when she thought she could bear it no longer and that she was going to evaporate in a cloud of heady arousal, Jareth suddenly stopped the device's movements. He knelt back down next to her and stroked his hand through her sweat damp hair.

"Have you learned your lesson Sarah?" he asked gently.

Sarah nodded her affirmation; unable to draw breath properly with the man she so wanted so close and yet hardly touching her. His magical auror overpowered her highly sensitive senses, threatening to engulf her if he did not give her the release she needed.

"What is it you _need _Sarah?" Jareth asked her with the air of one coaxing an answer out of a reluctant child.

"You," she croaked through the pain of arousal, "I need you to give me my release."

"Good," Jareth crooned reaching his hand down to the device and loosening it slightly. "And what do I have?"

"Power over me," Sarah gasped as he shifted the device in the process of removing it, causing another stab of pleasure to wash through her being. She collapsed back to the floor and lay there shuddering at the sensations sweeping through her body.

Jareth reached out a hand and carefully turned her over so that she was lying on her back. Undoing his breeches he moved to hover over her, staring down into her eyes.

"I forgive you," he whispered before leaning down to kiss her and pushing himself into her at the same time. It took only three of his powerful thrusts before Sarah's over stimulated body shattered around him, clenching round his cock and pulling him over the edge in an all engulfing tide of pleasure and satisfaction. Sarah's orgasm shuddered through her, causing shock waves to ripple through Jareth's body as he continued to thrust into her, even in the depths of his own climax, prolonging the exquisite feeling for what felt like an eternity.

Sarah's wildly beating heart gradually began to return to normal and as it did so, Jareth raised himself off her chest and looked sincerely down into her eyes.

"Are you all right, Sarah?" he asked although he knew what the answer would be.

She nodded and pulled his head down to hers so that she could kiss him lightly on the mouth.

"That was amazing," she stated in an awestruck tone. "I forgot who and where I was."

Jareth laughed and kissed her again.

"You're my wife and you're here in my arms," he told her. "Now," he said rolling off her and rising serenely to his feet, doing up his breeches as though nothing untoward had happened at all. "I came in here to offer you a pre dinner drink. Would you like one?"

Sarah scrambled inelegantly to her feet, shaking knees refusing to support her weight properly.

"I think I need one," she laughed with a shy smile. She started to hunt for her clothes but Jareth merely waved his hand in the direction of her body and she found herself clothed in an elegant, figure hugging cocktail dress of midnight blue. He turned back towards her, offering her a glass and raising his own.

"To my beautiful Sarah," he said, "may she find health and happiness...and never ending pleasure."

He raised his glass to his lips while Sarah blushed prettily. She raised her glass in return.

"And to my wonderful King," she replied, "may he never cease to be what he now is, lest I lose the man I love."

She raised her own glass to her lips and tasted the sweet cocktail of fruitiness that she could not quite identify. Jareth wrapped his arm tenderly round her waist and drew her down with him until she sat on his lap in one of the armchairs. Placing their glasses back on the side table, he wrapped his arms round Sarah and kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder. She leant back against his chest, sighing contentedly and nuzzling her head in under his chin. Jareth used two fingers to tilt her head up so that he could look into her eyes.

"To the future," he said, "and to us."

He brought his lips tenderly down onto hers.

**So there it is. This is not the last chapter – still plenty more to come if you still want it. Please let me know what you think. Love you all. xxxx**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey everyone. Sorry it has been so long...I got tied up in the middle of my exams, and then I was ill. And then I found out I have seven subjects this term instead of the usual four! So it's been very busy. This chapter contains a serious warning...no sex! Don't worry, there will be more, but this chapter is dealing a bit with the story, so I don't completely lose where I'm going with this. Hope you like it. xxx**

Jareth was angry. Ice cold flames danced in the mismatched depths of his startlingly blue eyes as he drew himself to his full height, stalking the length of his throne room before turning on his heal and cracking his riding crop against the leather of his boot.

The excited commotion of clamouring goblins ceased immediately. He turned slowly back towards his throne where a cowering goblin huddled at the foot of the dais. He brought the whip up to point at the terrified messenger.

"You," he said and his voice was filled with cold fury. "Are you sure?"

The goblin wrung his hands and looked as though he was trying to melt into the floor.

"Yes, My Lord. Not a short time since. I was grumbling down to the crummage patch Sir. And I is seeing the spiders Sir, I is."

"The crummage patch you say?"

"Yes Sir."

There was a flash of falling glitter as an owl soared from the throne room window, wings opened wide as it spiralled up above the lawn, its keen eyes searching the grounds for the faintest flicker of movement.

Jareth strained his eyes but could make out no movement within the castle grounds, save for a wheezing old dwarf gardener who appeared to be stooping down to lick the edges of the enormous unopened poppies that grew in one border. As Jareth wheeled round, catching an updraft beneath his wings and letting it carry him upwards, the old dwarf collapsed over backwards and lay on his back, regarding his feet, which now stuck up in front of him, and giggling. And then Jareth sensed it. Something niggling at the telepathic centre of his mind. Unrest. Disturbance. Something was wrong. What was it? It was faint. As though someone was trying to muffle it. Jareth let the wind carry him higher, searching for a stronger directional pull. One mistake would be all it took. He silently prayed that the spiders were not as well drilled after their long absence from his kingdom.

Jareth's defeat of the spiders had been a legendary accomplishment, although it was well known that they had not entirely vanished. A few renegades were known to have been hiding out, biding their time, disorientated and leaderless. The spiders had roamed the goblin kingdom since time immemorial. No-one had minded, although people had been vigilant after seeing what havoc they had wrecked aboveground.

The spiders fed off telepathic wave energy, sucking up an unprotected thought process or communication and drinking its essence. For this reason they could be dangerous if given access to unguarded information. Any goblin new of the dangers. Just look at the changelings. The poor human children who had been rescued from a life of cruelty to one of contentment in the underground. They changed, but they were always different. They had no thought projection. The humans capacity for telepathic messaging had been sucked dry. Not only this but they seemed to be no longer aware of the dangers, fear of the spiders being regarded as irrational and childish. In the goblin kingdom the truth was known. It was right to be scared of something that hovers over your bed, or crouches in the cracks in the wall, and sucks out your mental processes. In fact, it was right to be terrified.

But Jareth had defeated them. His power blasting them back to the aboveground from whence the came. The tale was told often. Even now. The battle against the swarms of telepathic scavengers, the goblin king standing tall amid the destruction. Flames raging round him and tangles of hairy legs running from beneath his feet. How in the midst of the destruction he had reached into the air, produced a crystal and stared into its depths, muttering as it had rolled between his hands. How he had raised his eyes and surveyed the scene around him, the flames reflected in his eyes, turning them to a deep blood red. How he had raised his arm and smashed the crystal at his feet. How a wave of power had sent shockwaves across the underground, blasting the spiders back to oblivion as his medallion had glowed and pulsed against his chest. And how, as the howling wind had subsided, he had turned back to his cowering goblins, over which the blast had passed harmlessly, and smiled a genuine smile, before raising his hands to address them all.

"My people," he had said, "it is over but it is not finished. Rest well, be happy and enjoy your lives. But never cease to be vigilant. For they will return. Be it in a year, two, a hundred...they will return. And when they do, we will be ready."

The goblins had cheered and celebrated, but as he turned his back to them, Jareth's brow had creased with worry as he felt the unmistakable feel of six eyes bore into him, before the scuttle of eight legs faded out of hearing.

The events of that day, many hundreds of years before, played in Jareth's mind as he glided above his kingdom. He had known this day would come, when they would be sighted again. But he had still dreaded it. And how had the spiders reformed? They had no leader, no access to power sources...and yet. Jareth's mind was in turmoil....And yet...

A movement flickered in the corner of his vision and he snapped his head round. There. In the hedge. The faintest movement. And again. At the edge of his consciousness. The leaking of a single telepathic phrase.

_"We're back."_

Jareth folded up his wings, plummeting headlong towards the faint life signature he had detected. His keen eyes picked out the small shape, then the scuttling hairy legs as the arachnid fled, realising it had been spotted. Jareth's shadow opened out over the creature as his wings spread wide, his talons snatching at the fragile body, closing round it and carrying it back into the sky.

"_Who sent you?"_ Jareth spoke into its mind, feeling the creature literally absorb his words.

"_Heh heh heh," _the creature gurgled through its pain, _"why would I tell you?"_

"_You're right," _Jareth answered, _"you wouldn't."_

And he opened his talons. As the creature fell, too injured to save itself from the bone shattering drop, Jareth heard it speak into his mind once more.

"_Beware Goblin King," _came the voice, _"they are coming."_

The telepathic link ended abruptly.

Concealed in the hedgerow below, another set of eyes watched the black shape drop from the talons of the majestic grey-white owl. Excitement danced and the pupils opened wide in hunger for what was to come. Thin lips peeled back from yellow teeth in a sneer of triumph as fingers caressed the black raven feathers that adorned the tail of the iron tipped arrow. The eyes never left the retreating silhouette as sure fingers set the arrow to the spider's silk string of the witch's bow, pulling the arrow back so the yew branch bent under the tension. The shadow circled overhead once more, before turning back towards the castle. A keen eye stared steadily down the length of the arrow.

Jareth caught the faint sound of a telepathic trace and wheeled in the air, hovering high over the ground and searching with his eyes. There was no movement. He turned back towards the castle.

"_We are coming."_

Jareth spun in the air. The arrow released. In a tumble of white feathers the owl began cart wheeling downwards through the air, plummeting towards the smooth lawns, wings useless, out of control, showers of feathers erupting from the tumbling body to float gently through the air in its wake. Below the falling bird, a hedge burst into flames, an agonised scream erupting from its midst. Jareth fought the fog clouding his brain. The ground was rushing up to meet him at a speed that seemed impossible. He tried to open his wings but could not make his body obey his clouded mind. Painfully, he shut his eyes.

**Yeah, I know. Sorry about the cliff-hanger, but the next chapter will be out very soon!! Please let me know what you think. Love you all. xxx**


	21. Chapter 21

**What happens....**

Sarah finished knotting the cord of her dressing gown and exited the bathroom, her skin glowing after her bath. Crossing to the bench at the end of the bed she looked to see what clothes Jareth would materialise for her. She frowned. The bench was empty. Usually, when she felt like getting dressed Jareth would sense it and the clothing would appear. Perhaps he was a little preoccupied today? She sighed and crossed to one of the armchairs that were drawn up in front of the fire. Curling her feet up underneath her and tugging the edge of the gown a little lower, she let her head fall back against the head rest. A lazy smile spread itself across her face, her eyes fluttering shut as she recalled the events of that morning.

Awakening to find the sheets folded back to the foot of the bed, Jareth lying on his side, head propped on his arm as he observed her sleeping form. His beautiful eyes were filled with awe at the sight of her nakedness. He sat up, leaning in his arm, his hair, ruffled from sleep falling in a mussed up tumble over his forehead. He had not said anything, but had drawn her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips, mouth shut. Chaste.

As she had lain back against the pillow his hand ran down the smooth column of her neck, curling round, following her contours, opening out caress her shoulder, travelling on down, over her breast. He did not linger, moved on down until his hand rested on her waist. For some reason, the action did not seem sexual and, glancing down, she realised that the same feeling must be commanding him. He wasn't hard. But the look in his eye was one of love. Almost worship.

She had felt his fingers tighten on the curve of her waist, turning her gentle so that she was propped half lying on her stomach. His eyes raked her back and his hand had run appreciatively from neck to thigh.

"Sarah," he murmured, and his voice was serious, "you really are beautiful."

His hand had run further down her leg, drawing her knee up towards him until his hand rested on her calf.

"Just here," he whispered and lowered his head to kiss the swell of her buttock.

He released her and she rolled onto her back so that she could look up into his face. His eyes locked onto her lips and he lowered his heady slowly back to hers. His lips barely brushed her. Once. Twice. His eyes open, so close as he gazed into hers. His hand travelled up the flat plane of her stomach, as though exploring the region in a new light. He let his hand rest on her breast, still, not stimulating or moving. He had pulled back and looked at where his hand lay, pinching her nipple between index and middle finger and pulling upwards slightly. He sank his head down to her, drawing a circle round it with his tongue, swirling over the tightening bud. He pulled back and observed his handiwork, running delicate fingers over the now erect peak. She reached up to him and brushed his own nipple and he had caught her hand and pressed it flat to his chest as he settled back against the pillow. She had been running her hand down the side of his stomach, intending to go lower, when a loud knocking on the door had interrupted them. Jareth had left in a flurry of goblin shouting to attend to a messenger who had arrived with some news.

Sarah opened her eyes and sighed. If only they had not been interrupted. She rose and crossed to the window, wrapping her arms round herself, fingers digging into the upper sleeves of the dressing gown as she stared out across the Labyrinth.


	22. Chapter 22

Not half a mile away, a grey white owl plummeted towards a flaming hedge, out of control and helpless. The flames leapt higher and the owl was gone, but there was no sound of a body hitting the earth.

**Keep reading....**


	23. Chapter 23

**The plot thickens...please keep reading and reviewing. xxx**

There was a rending sound behind her and Sarah spun round, a scream caught in her throat. From nowhere, from the sky except that they were inside, Jareth was falling, tearing through the canopy of curtain that covered the bed, falling in a whirlwind of feathers and tangled limbs. He hit the soft mattress and lay still, legs crumpled beneath his body, head rocked back and mouth open. One arm was bent awkwardly beneath his back the other flung out at his side. From his chest protrude the shaft of a yew arrow, tailed with the black feathers of a raven.

The scream that had caught in Sarah's throat released and she ran to him, sinking to her knees at the side of the bed and flinging her arms round him. She called his name, looking up to his face, tears streaming down her cheeks. A pulse flickered in his exposed neck and she let out a wail of joy. He was still alive. She moved up, intending to get a look at his face, but as she did so something else arrested her attention. From this angle she could see that the arrow head was not buried in his chest, as she had first thought, but instead was penetrating deep into the muscle of his upper right arm. She allowed herself half a sigh of relief. It had missed his heart. A rich, purple black stain was spreading quickly across the white of his shirt, soaking into the bed covers as Sarah's anxious fingers tried to staunch the flow of blood. With hands stained the colour of brambles Sarah was whimpering at her own uselessness, the blood flowing faster with every passing minute. Suddenly Jareth's whole body convulsed wildly and his eyes flew open. His mouth gaped, moving in a semblance of speech though no sound emerged. His flickered shut again, although the grimace on his face as he gritted his teeth against the pain told Sarah he was still conscious. Another wave of pain seemed to hit him for his body convulsed again and he pulled himself up, gripping the front of Sarah's gown with both hands and staring straight into her eyes.

"Sarah," his voice hissed through his gritted teeth. "Get it out Sarah. It's iron tipped."

A further wave of pain crumpled him back to the bed as he seemed to collapse into unconsciousness once more. Sarah clutched her arms round him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Jareth," she cried, "Jareth wake up. Iron's poisonous for you isn't it? Jareth what do I do?"

Sarah cupped her hands round his pallid cheeks. There was no colour in his face and his lips were turning a sickly grey. His breath was rattling in uneven gasps through his slightly parted lips and beneath his lids she could see his eyes were flickering back and forth through the fever and pain.

Sarah drew a deep steadying breath, trying to become practical. She kissed him once one the lips. "It's going to be alright," she told him.

He did not respond.

Though she hated to leave him, Sarah rose and crossed to the door of the room, sticking her head out and shouting for help. Glancing round the room she could see nothing that would serve as a bandage, so she ran back to the bed and pulled a pillow out of its case, ripping the silk into a few short strips. She prayed it would be enough. Jareth's voice summoned her back to his side. He was conscious again, but his eyes were wide, pupils dilated. She could see the mists of pain swirling in them. He reached out for her with his left arm, the arm without the arrow. She felt his fingers thread through hers, twisted and clearly broken in several places. His arm too looked odd and misshapen and she remembered the unnatural way it had laid beneath him after he fell.

"Sarah," he whispered, each word shuddering from his lips as he fought for enough breath to continue. "Do it now, quickly. Then summon the guard. Tell them they are back. The spiders are back. And Sarah?" His voice grew quieter with the effort of speaking, "Tell them they have a leader...it's not just the spiders." He collapsed back on the bed, lifted his chin and gritted his teeth. His whole body tensed against the pain that was to come. "Do it now," he ordered.

Sarah kissed his greying lips before reaching over him and tearing the sleeve of his shirt away from his arm. The arrow had gone deep. She lifted his arm, trying to ignore his growl of pain.

"You'll pay for this later," he groaned.

"You bet I will." Sarah smiled reassuringly.

Lowering her head she looked at the underside of his arm. The tip of the arrow head could just be seen, poking out through his torn skin. Thick purplish black blood was leaking from the edges of the wound although the tightness with which the arrow head was wedged seemed to be stopping most the bleeding. It must be lying against the bone, Sarah realised. It had just missed shattering his arm altogether. And if it had been half a foot to the left...Sarah shut her mind to that thought.

"I can feel the iron burn," Jareth moaned. He bit his lip as Sarah touched the arrow tip that protruded from the underside of his arm. Blood leaked from between his teeth as he directed the pain into his lower lip. "How does it look?" he asked.

"Umm...fine. Not too bad at all." Jareth turned his head towards her and read the lie in her eyes. He nodded his head.

"Do it now," he said.

Sarah kissed him on the mouth again.

She took hold of the arrow shaft.

She pulled.

Jareth screamed, his body writhing up off the bed. And then he fell still. Sarah pulled the arrow free of his arm. Blood ran freely from the gaping wound, staining Jareth's shirt even more. Sarah glanced at his face. Cold sweat dappled his forehead and his breathing was quick and shallow. She was glad he was unconscious for she knew what she had to do next would be excruciating. Gingerly, she reached her fingers into the open wound, searching for any splinters or shards of iron that might be left in the hole. If the iron was poisonous, it was important to make sure none was left. Withdrawing her fingers she grabbed a strip of pillow case and wrapped it tightly round the wound. The blood soaked through immediately. It was such a deep cut, it should have stitches. There would be muscle damage. She tied a second strip over the first, then a third and a fourth. Still she could not staunch the bleeding. Panicking, Sarah ran to the bedroom door, only to collide with a mumbling goblin.

"Get help. Now!" she yelled at it.

It looked up at her with sullen eyes.

"Why shoulds I get help for you?" it grumbled. "You're not mys master. You're only his..."

The goblin froze in horror as it caught sight of Jareth.

"I'll get the healer," it said and sprinted off down the corridor.

Sarah returned to Jareth and smoothed his sweat damp hair away from his forehead. She kissed him gently and his eyes flickered open. He smiled.

"My angel," he whispered.

Sarah leant down to kiss him again. Just at that moment the door flew open and the goblin burst into the room flowed by an elderly dwarf who was wheezing and clutching a stitch in his side. He marched officiously over to where Jareth lay and elbowed Sarah out the way.

"Now my King, what have we here?" he aged healer asked, prodding at the blood soaked bandaging.

Jareth moaned and Sarah felt his broken fingers again reach into her hand. As the surgeon stripped back the bandaging, Jareth shook his head from side to side. The pain was excruciating. He crunched Sarah's fingers in his, aware that his hand and arm were broken. One ankle throbbed dully, but none of that was anything compared to the fire lancing through his right arm.

"Iron wounding hmm. It's all out?" The surgeon fixed Sarah with an intent stare. She nodded.

The dwarf opened the large medicine bag that he had carried and reached inside. Jareth gripped Sarah's hand harder and pulled her down so that his faint voice whispered in her ear.

"Sarah. Go now. And summon the guard."

She looked down at him. She did not want to leave him like this. She never wanted to leave his side. What if something happened and she wasn't there? He saw the doubt in her eyes and understood her hesitation.

"Remember what I told you," he whispered. "It's only forever. I'm not going anywhere." His eyes dated to where the healer was preparing his equipment. "Go now," he said with more force.

Sarah looked down at him once more and with a tremendous effort he raised himself slightly off the bed and pressed his lips to hers, opening his mouth and running his tongue against hers. He flopped back to the bed and released her hand, shutting his eyes tight. Sarah turned and left the room. She was half way down the corridor when she heard Jareth's scream of pain. She started to run.

The tears fell blindly from her eyes and she couldn't stop her feet. Her heart wanted to return, to be with Jareth, but she could not stop her frantic dash away from his suffering. She couldn't turn back. When her steps slowed she raised her head, blinking hard. She realised she was in the throne room, though how she had got through Jareth's hall of optical illusion she did not know. Drawing herself up and wiping her eyes she strode forward to deliver Jareth's message to the goblins.

Jareth was glad he had sent Sarah away, though he missed her terribly. He wanted to hold her hand, bury his face in her chest and have her take away his pain. But this was messy and painful, and he had not been able to bear the look of horror on her face. So he had sent her to deliver his message. He writhed on the bed, blood flowing from his lower lip as he bit down and broken finger joints grinding as he clenched his fists. The liquid the surgeon was using to cleanse the iron poisoning was excruciating and Jareth reached for the blackness again, allowing it to take away the hurt and allow him some peace.

The throne room was now empty. The goblins had leapt to action at the mention of the spiders, although Sarah was still not sure what these creatures might be. She figured they could not be the same as aboveground spiders; there was nothing to fear from most of them. She turned, intending to return to Jareth's chamber and help in the mending of his wounds. As she passed into the corridor that would lead her from the throne room however, she felt herself seized by the upper arm and pulled into a dark recess that usually housed a gilt statue. Strong arms held her tight and her vision began to blur as an image of herself in the throes of orgasm swam before her eyes. Hot lips pressed briefly against hers as she struggled to escape. A cold voice spoke chillingly in her ear.

"So here she is. Jareth's bride. The Coming Champion. And it was so easy."

Sarah raised her eyes and stared straight back into the icy blue stare of Raemon.


	24. Chapter 24

**For all of you who find cliff hangers a killer, I am so sorry. The story just seemed to ask for them. Hope you enjoy the next instalment. Let me know what you think. xxx**

The brief look Sarah caught of his face before she was whirled away down the corridor showed her that Raemon still bore the signs of his last meeting with Jareth. Although now much faded the bruising on his face was still visible, and the shiny remains of a scar stood out on his lower lip. Sarah struggled with all her might as she was marched off down the corridor, but Raemon's superior strength left her no room for manoeuvre and she found she could do little but follow. As they left the castle grounds Raemon spun to face her, pulling her body flush against his and fading them slowly from view. As they vanished, Sarah thought she caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes watching them from behind a bush, but by the time she looked again, it was too late.

Even from the simple manoeuvre of transportation, Sarah could tell that Raemon's magic could not rival that of his cousin. The travel was unsteady, laboured and when they materialised once again Raemon looked tired and was breathing heavily, clutching at his damaged ribs. Also, it seemed that he could not dematerialise from inside Jareth's castle, else why hadn't he just snatched her away in the corridor? Sarah stored this information away in case it should become useful later. Now, however, she appeared to have more pressing problems.

They had appeared in what seemed to be a damp dungeon, not unlike the oubliette in which she had found herself on her first visit to the Labyrinth. Raemon wrapped his arm round her waist and pulled her towards a corner where rusty chains hung from the ceiling. Sarah kicked out and screamed, begging Raemon not too do this, but he ignored her, his messy black hair falling over his eyes as he drew her arms above her head and snapped the cuffs shut. Sarah was stretched onto her tiptoes, unable to move at all. Facing the wall. She shut her eyes and thought of Jareth, pleading that he would help her, knowing that he could not.

She heard Raemon clattering about behind her, but could not turn her head to see what he was doing. And then there was silence.

Back at Jareth's castle a small figure ran up the steps to the main doors, throwing his weight against them and pushing with all his might.

Up in the grand chamber, the surgeon pushed the cork back into his bottle of antidote and turned to Jareth's left arm. Running his hand over the break he quickly determined a complicated compound fracture, as well as multiple breaks in three of Jareth's fingers. He glanced up at the king's face. Grey etched his features and cold sweat stood out on his forehead. He was muttering something as his shallow breath hissed from between his lips and it was only when he lowered his ear to Jareth's mouth that the surgeon could distinguish the single word.

"Sarah."

Through his mist of pain Jareth became aware of a face bending over him.

"Sarah?" he muttered.

But the face was not Sarah's. It was that of his healer. He turned his head away.

"No," he whispered, "I can't, not again."

The face was saying something but Jareth tried to block it out. He wanted Sarah. The voice swam on the edges of his consciousness.

"My Lord. My Lord. My Lord, listen to me. Concentrate on my voice. I have cleaned the wounds. I need you to repair the damage. Summon your magic and direct it to healing. I will guide you through the process. Come now My Lord."

Jareth closed his eyes against the swirling room.

"Can't," he protested, "too tired."

He felt someone calling on the edge of his consciousness, reaching out and crying for him. He screwed his eyes shut and sought out the voice. It was scared. It asked him for help. But how could he help? He had no strength. He tried to shut the voice out but it grew in volume, searching for him. His mind recoiled in shock. It was Sarah. But how could she be in danger? She was in the throne room. He felt her scared thoughts screaming out for him. Clenching his fists he sought out his magic.

"That's it My Lord," the healer encouraged, "show me the magic and I will put it to your healing."

But Jareth did no such thing. Instead he channelled his power over the void, sending it flowing to Sarah, helping her in the only way he had the strength to do. It wasn't much. But at least she'd know he was there. Exhausted from the effort, he collapsed back into unconsciousness. The surgeon sighed in exasperation.

"What was that?!" he asked the hovering goblin, "Why didn't he try to heal himself?"

The goblin shrugged and the surgeon moved to Jareth's side once more and laid his fingers on the King's neck, checking his pulse. It was weak and fluttered beneath his fingers. The surgeon shook his head.

The door to the chamber crashed open and Hoggle cannoned through the opening, spinning with the force with which he had entered the room.

"My Lord?" he was shouting. "My Lord Jareth something terrible has..."

He froze at the sight of Jareth's prone body lying unconscious on the bed. He collapsed to his knees wailing.

"Oh no no no. Oh my poor Sarah." He leapt to his feet and ran to Jareth. "Wake up you useless King," he shouted, grabbing Jareth's shoulders and shaking him hard. "Wake up Your good for nothing Majesty. You promised you'd protect her and now she's stolen, you..."

The surgeon and the goblin dragged Hoggle's screaming form away, and he collapsed sobbing to the ground.

In the dungeon, Sarah stared blankly at the wall. She wanted to scream, and kick, and cry, but the energy just was not there. Numbly she reached out for Jareth again, wishing with all her heart that he was well and would save her. All at once she felt an odd sensation deep within her. Like something materialising inside her, growing and expanding. Her body shuddered slightly as it touched the sides of her sensitive walls, pulsing slightly as it manifested itself inside her. She realised what it was. Jareth's cylinder thing. His so called Underground chastity belt. She wondered if he had heard her plea for help? But how could this help her now, she wondered. It wasn't like she could use it as a weapon. But then, she thought, even if this had been sent by Jareth, and wasn't just an automatic reaction to her leaving the castle grounds, he had no idea where she was. She sighed and let herself flop down in the chains, giving her aching feet a rest. She wondered vaguely when Raemon would return, and what he had in store for her.

She did not have to wait long. Somewhere behind her a door clattered open and she could hear a sly voice crooning to something behind her.

"Come my beauties," Raemon's voice sounded, "Come and meet his bride. Let me introduce you to the Coming Champion."

Sarah heard a scuttling behind her, as though of many legs surging across stone. Then she felt the tickling of climbing bodies, and looked down to see a swarm of spiders making their way up her legs. Sarah gritted her teeth. If Raemon wanted her to react in fear, she would not give him the satisfaction. These looked like harmless house spiders, though they tickled and itched as they ascended her thighs. She felt Raemon's breath on the back of her neck as he moved behind her to whisper in her ear.

"Can't you hear them Sarah?" he asked his hands rising to smooth the hair away from her ears and down her back. "Can't you hear them talk? They can hardly hear you. Ahhh."

Raemon stilled as though listening to a faraway sound. Sarah strained her ears but could hear nothing.

"They say you're drained Sarah. Your capacity for inter-mind communication virtually nil." He ran his hands down her shoulders over the dressing gown she still wore. "You poor Abovegrounders," he sing-songed into her hair. "You miss so much." Sarah felt, rather than saw, the smile that spread across his face. "But what's this? The spiders tell me that beneath your robe, you are wearing...nothing."

Sarah became aware that the spiders were now climbing the chains that held her arms above her head, crawling across the ceiling and presumably exiting the room from the same door through which they had entered. Raemon's arms slid round her waist and Sarah repressed an exclamation of fear. She would not give him the satisfaction.

"I know you were attracted to me at the ball Sarah," Raemon spoke urgently into her ear. "I know you only resisted because of the presence of my cousin. But he is not here now. And he won't be here. He will never be here. My archer saw to that."

Sarah stiffened. So it had been Raemon who had tried to kill Jareth.

"But why?" she exclaimed before she could stop herself.

"He didn't tell you? But the spiders told me he took you to the garden. He didn't show you the picture?"

"What picture," Sarah spat, wondering if he was just trying to rile her.

"The picture of you of course. It's been in his summer house as long as we have known. Dated since before our birth. You. The Coming Champion. And Jareth's future bride."

Sarah caught her breath and wondered if the knowledge did anything to change the way she felt. It spoke of prophesy. She wondered why Jareth had not told her. She thought of his words earlier that day. "It's only forever" he had said. And his promise, "I'll be there for you, when the world falls down." These were not the idle untruths of a trickster. She loved Jareth, and Raemon could not change that.

"So what," she answered defiantly. "If Jareth didn't tell me then he obviously had a reason. Maybe he didn't want me to freak out or something."

Even as she said it it sounded weak. Raemon chuckled darkly.

"Yeah well, whatever you say Sarah. I only wish that the spiders had not been necessary. They are cruel. I can only control them as far as it suits them. They are a law unto themselves. But my cousin spurned me. He humiliated me. He delights in it. And now I take revenge."

Raemon's hands began fumbling with the tie on the front of her robe. As much to stall him as anything Sarah queried his last remark.

"What did he do?" she asked.

"He took the throne," Raemon ground out. "It was mine by rights, I was older. I was the favourite. But then Jareth was born. Jareth with his oddball eyes and golden hair. His magic was so strong. He set fire to his crib but he did not burn, he froze his bath water but he was unharmed. It was a sign they said. Jareth was the rightful king. They trained him, taught him to control his power, but he was always stronger than them. That's what it means you know, in Goblin. Jareth means powerful king. And he was so good. He loved the goblins, he played with the changelings. Could he not see that he was better than them? Did he have no sense of pride? He rules so gently. I, now I would have been a proper king, strong and strict. Never give into them. But Jareth..."

Raemon's angry tirade tailed off. Sarah shuddered at the thought of Raemon as Goblin King. If he thought Jareth was soft, God alone knew what he would have done. Raemon's fingers finally fumbled the knot in her dressing gown open.

"But now I have won," he sneered. "I have his champion and he is dying. I have won."

His hands pulled open the front of her gown, sliding up to cover her bare breasts. Sarah shuddered at his touch, repulsed.

"Relax Sarah, I know you want this."

"I'll never want this," she spat in return, convulsing her body and trying to throw him off, but the movement the chains allowed her was not enough for such a manoeuvre. Raemon laughed at her obviously failed attempt to oust him from her body, tightening his hands against her and pulling her back to his body. Horrified, Sarah could feel the growing hardness at his crotch. Aloud, she snickered.

"What is it Sarah?" Raemon asked, his voice sounding uncertain as to whether he should be laughing too.

"Oh nothing," Sarah replied, trying to make her voice sound light, despite her predicament. "It's just that you're way smaller than Jareth."

Her taunt hit home and Raemon's reaction was instantaneous. He flung her from him so that she swung forward, impacting with the stone wall in front of her. He brought his hand down hard, punching forcefully into the stretched point where her shoulder joined her neck. Sarah's world swam, and then she was engulfed by blackness.

Hoggle was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth and moaning.

"Poor Sarah," he was saying, "poor poor Sarah."

The surgeon and the goblin stared at him perplexed. They glanced at each other, but neither knew the source of the little groundsman's anxiety.

"Poor Sarah," Hoggle moaned again, "snatched by the nasty one from the ball. Snatched by that Raemon who was here the other day. He was punished then. I hope he still hurts."

Unseen by any, Jareth's head turned slowly on the pillow. When he spoke, they jumped, not expecting him to be awake.

"What's this Hogwart?" he queried and his voice, though still weak, had regained some of its usual composure.

"Your cousin sir," began Hoggle tremulously. "He snatched Sarah. I saw them vanish from just outside the grounds. You were supposed to protect her Jareth. You couldn't even do that right," he grumbled. "And now she's gone. What a mess."

The little dwarf shook his head and pulled himself to his feet. He hobbled to the door and left, muttering something about finding Didymus, if all Jareth could do was lie there and be dying. Jareth pulled himself to a sitting position.

"Is this true?" he asked the goblin, though he knew in his heart that it was. He thought of Sarah's silent cries for help. Summoning his strength he pulled a crystal from the air. The mist swirled within its depths, barley clearing until he asked it to show him Sarah out loud. A dark room appeared. Sarah was hanging by her wrist from the ceiling, feet barely touching the ground. She was covered in splashes of blood and Jareth caught his breath before realising that from its colour, it had to be his. The front of her dressing gown hung open, revealing her body. Her eyes were closed but the flickering beneath her lids told him that she was dreaming. Behind he stood Raemon, his eyes closed in concentration as he fed her the visions. Pulling on more of his limited strength, Jareth commanded the crystal to show him Sarah's vision. He nearly dropped the crystal in shock.

Sarah was lying naked in the grass, an unseen force pressing her into the ground. Her arms and legs were spread wide and all that would move were her eyes, which she flicked back and forth in apprehension. Silently, Raemon appeared, naked to the waist but still retaining his cream riding breeches. He lay down beside Sarah, running his hand over her breasts and down across her stomach, lower and lower. His fingers delved between her legs and Sarah tried to writhe away, but the forces holding her immobile were too strong. One finger pushed inside her, seeking to reach deep.

Out with the vision Raemon frowned. What was this? Why was it still there? Why hadn't it vanished in his vision like the rest of her attire? While still maintaining the stream of dream to Sarah, he reached down and lifted the back of Sarah's dressing gown. Pushing his hand between her legs, he inserted a finger inside her. Then he realised. A Labyrinthian cylinder. That was powerful enough not to simply be negated by a force dream. Cursing, he reached back inside her, taking hold of the cylinder and pulling hard. It did not budge.

In the dream, Sarah wanted to scream as she felt Raemon try to remove her only defence, but no sound would escape her body.

On his bed at the castle, Jareth allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. His brow quickly darkened again as he continued to observe.

In the dream, Raemon grew impatient. His erection hurt him. He needed release. Waving his hand over Sarah's body, he released the force enough to be able to roll her over before pinning her back to the ground. Smiling, he ran his hand down her lower back, stroking a finger over her puckered entrance.

"No!"

Jareth hurled the crystal at the far wall where it shattered into a million tiny shards of glitter. Pulling himself further upright, Jareth fought the spin of the room as the blood began to pump from the wound in his arm once more, and the broken bones grated with the movement.

"My Lord you must rest," exclaimed the surgeon, hurrying over to him and trying to push him back against the pillows. Jareth fought him off and dragged himself to his feet, knowing full well as the world spun round him that had he been fit the surgeon would never have dared to contradict him like this.

"My Lord, at least let us heal you," the scared surgeon pleaded, blanching at the terrifying harshness in Jareth's eyes.

Jareth blinked his eyes, trying to focus the room. He attempted to raise his hand and summon a crystal, but the muscle strength just wasn't there. The surgeon saw his chance and seized Jareth's hands, trying not to crush the king's broken fingers.

"Concentrate on me My Lord," he tried again, "channel the magic so I can use it."

Jareth closed his eyes and drew on the source of his power. It felt a long way off, unobtainable. He gritted his teeth and reached further, stretching out metaphorical finger tips. He reached it, sending it coursing back to the surgeon. Immediately he felt the muscle of his arm regaining strength as the fibres knitted together. The broken bones forced themselves back into realignment and began to fuse. The deep gash began to close, the blood drying away to reveal a deep rooted, silvery scar. Jareth flexed his muscles and opened his eyes. He stood and the world did not try to shake him from his feet.

"There you are My Lord," the surgeon said in a pleased voice, "all it took was a little wanting of it on your part. My Lord? My Lord come back. My Lord you should rest. You are not fully well. You were poisoned by iron, it takes days to heal. My Lord you must lie down."

But Jareth was gone, the chamber window banging shut behind him as he leapt from the sill. Time was what they did not have.

**Will Jareth be strong enough? Will Jareth be in time? Will he find them? What will he do? Keep reading. xxx**


	25. Chapter 25

**Wow, 25 cahpters already!! And were not done yet. So anyway...chapter 25. Not all was as it seemed. Keep reading and reviewing please. Luv you all. xxx**

Jareth's wing felt stiff and sore. The patch of missing feathers where the arrow had stuck dragged in the air, reducing his aerodynamics. He beat his wings a few times experimentally and then tried banking first to the left, and then the right, compensating slightly for the reduction in efficiency. He furled his wings in to dive towards the ground and a stab of pain shot through him, nearly causing him to roll in the air and lose control. He spun round, flapping hard, pulling upwards as he spread his wing again, the aching intensifying. Shutting his mind to the pain as well he could, he tried again. This time he plummeted towards the ground, without his usual finesse it was true, but without the fear of falling. Satisfied with the level of control he maintained, he spiralled high into the air, setting off in the direction of Raemon's country house.

Sarah's face pressed into the ground and she screwed her eyes tight shut, trying to block out what was happening. Raemon's finger stroked down her again, teasing at her back entrance before moving further down, between her legs, pushing underneath her to tease at her clit. She gritted her teeth, trying desperately to think of the solution to her predicament. How did she get out of this? Raemon's finger touched her again, and this time he was pushing in, the top half of his finger buried within her. Sarah was so tense that the pain was that of tearing, forcing itself against her muscles. He moved his finger and she let out a whimper.

"Want more Sarah?" Raemon asked, his hot breath on her ear as he pressed himself onto her, crushing her body as bent his head to speak to her. "Want me inside you? You're impatient Sarah. Remember, I control the speed."

He pushed until the full length of his finger was inside her, before withdrawing slightly and forcing her to take another. His other hand delved down to trace the opening of her sex, entering her as far as the cylinder would allow. Sarah tried to detach her mind from her body. She thought of Jareth and wondered if he was well enough to know she was missing. She doubted it. Iron poisoning lead to delirium, even if removed, and if not...She tried to think of something else again. And then suddenly, as it does to dreamers, the solution came to her. She was dreaming. This wasn't real. She had to wake up, she realised. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, schooling her mind to the idea of the dream. She opened her eyes wide. Soil. She tried again. Still soil. And then she thought of something. If Raemon was feeding her this dream then surely she would not be able to break it while he was touching her. And he had his fingers buried inside her. She groaned and prepared herself for what she knew she had to do.

Concentrating her mind solely on Jareth, trying to convince herself that it was him that was touching her, she relaxed each muscle one by one. The hardest to let go were the internal muscles currently trying to force Raemon's fingers out of her, but with a great effort of mind she achieved it. Raemon immediately felt the difference and grinned cruelly. She was his now, she had admitted it to herself. Taking a chance, he loosened the hold on her enough to allow her to talk. Her voice was muffled against the grass, but he understood everything she said.

"You're right Raemon," Sarah lied, "you are better than Jareth. I do want you. Raemon, I want you now."

The words tasted bitter in Sarah's mouth and she hated herself for having resorted to uttering them. She cringed as she felt Raemon's lips press into the back of her neck and for some reason it suddenly struck her as ironic that this fae, who was so attractive by human terms, should be so repulsive when she compared him to her only love. She was brought back to the present situation abruptly as she felt Raemon's fingers pump hard into her. He set a steady rhythm that made Sarah want to scream in pain.

"Need you now, Raemon," she managed to gasp.

It had the desired effect. He stilled his hands and shut his eyes, revelling in her words. That she should think him better than Jareth...He leant down to speak hotly in her ear.

"You really are a little slut aren't you?" he whispered. "Like it hard from behind..."

He pressed his lips into her neck again and Sarah forced herself not to try to move as he slowly withdrew his hands. As soon as his hands were busy with the fastenings of his riding breeches, Sarah took her chance. Shutting her eyes tight and willing her real eyes to obey her, she opened her eyes wide.

Pain in her arms. Stone wall. Open dressing gown. She was awake. And she was shaking. Wet tears covered her cheeks and a dull ache in her shoulder told of how she had come to be unconscious in the first place. Carefully, she sought the ground with her toes, taking some of the weight off her wrists as she stood up. As she did so she became aware of heavy breathing right behind her, and remembered that Raemon too would have been forced from the dream. And he wasn't happy.

Raemon's house was deserted when Jareth arrived there. The smooth lawn with curving drive was devoid of gardeners, however Jareth was observed as he wheeled down to the ground, transforming into his usual shape. He bent over for a few seconds, fighting the sickness in the pit of his stomach that the exertion had caused him. Straightening, he looked round. Air on his skin caused him to glance down, realising that he still wore the bloodstained and torn shirt through which the arrow had pierced. He turned on his heal, redressing himself in an intimidating black costume of fine silk. He looked down at the effect and frowned. The throbbing pain in his arm was clearly still effecting his strength, his buttons were done up wrong. Cursing silently, and fumbling with his newly mended fingers, he corrected the simple mistake that he had not made since early childhood, before drawing himself to his full and intimidating height and setting off across the lawn. The eyes that had watched his arrival blinked and vanished, but the damage was done. Eight scuttling legs bore witness that the Goblin King was weak, and that now would be the time to strike.

Jareth paused before the tightly closed oaken front doors. He shut his eyes and concentrated hard, wondering why making magic still seemed to be somewhat of a struggle as the iron poison left his system. He opened his eyes and raised his hand. Nothing happened. Feeling suddenly nauseas, he turned from the top step and vomited into the rose bushes that framed the front door. The bile tasted metallic and bloody. He spat again, staring at his shaking hands in frustration. The surgeon had said he should rest, but this was beyond intolerable. A further bite of pain gnawed through him, originating from his right bicep. Pushing his left arm under his shirt, he felt round the top of his right arm. Something sharp snagged at his gloves. Metal. Cursing as his gloves ripped and he sliced his finger, he summoned up as much strength as he could muster through the dizziness that was threatening to engulf him. As nausea endangered to overwhelm him again, he dug his nails deep into his own skin, gritting his teeth as he felt the blood begin to run. Fumbling slightly in the slipperiness, he managed to catch hold of the iron shard, pulling it free. He raised it before his eyes. A tiny metal sculpture. Carved in perfect shape. A spider. Jareth realised why his head still felt fuzzy and shut his mind to the call of the telepathic leaches. The nausea vanished and he shook his head. How had the surgeon missed such an obvious problem...the surgeon. Jareth's eyes grew dark as he thought of the undoubted treachery of that trusted healer. Slowly, deliberately, he drew his gloves from his hands and wrapped his fingers round his medallion. Shutting his eyes, he mingled his magic with its ancient power. Together, they gained in strength.

In Jareth's bedchamber in the castle, the healer was pacing the floor. He looked nervous and fidgety, which was starting to annoy Hoggle and the goblin, who had just finished changing the bloodstained sheets. Suddenly Jareth's voice was all around them.

"Healer," it boomed, reverberating round the stone walls. "Healer, you have failed me."

"My Lord...no..." the healer had turned as white as a sheet and was trembling in fear.

"Take him goblins," sounded Jareth's danger filled voice, "hold him until my return. Healer, do not try anything rash. The wrath of the Goblin King is terrible to..."

The voice cut off suddenly. Hoggle and the goblin looked at each other for a second. The chamber door banged shut behind the fleeing surgeon. With simultaneous cries of rage, Hoggle and the goblin set of in pursuit.

On the top step of Raemon's grand house, Jareth's eyes flew open, a very real scream echoing from not too far away. Sarah. Eyes full of rage, Jareth raised his right hand, the doors blasting from their hinges, the chains clattering uselessly against the stone floor. Jareth stormed across the threshold.

Raemon's hands clawed her back, drawing blood as they tore the open dressing gown for Sarah's body. He whipped round in front of her and she caught a glimpse of his crazed eyes before he crushed his lips to hers, seizing her hair and pulling hard until her head was where he wanted it. His teeth knocked into her lips, bruising them and Sarah did the only thing she could think of, and bit down hard on his lower lip. Raemon recoiled from her, blood leaking down his chin. Oddly though, his eyes looked triumphant.

"The excuse I was looking for," he muttered. "You asked for this," he told Sarah cruelly.

He whirled round and out of her line of vision. Sarah could hear him clattering round behind her. A wave of dread flooded her at the thought of what he might be about to do. She felt his hands at her ankles, pulling her legs apart and tying them so that she could not close. Yet again, she was completely helpless.

"You know you have the power to release the cylinder. If you wish it there no longer, I can remove it. Do this now." Sarah shook her head in defiance. "Very well, you leave me no choice. Have you heard of thumb screws?" Sarah nodded, her eyes wide. "This is not a thumb screw; however it works on roughly the same principle." He produced a small metal instrument. "It fits like this."

He bent down in front of her and closed it round her clit. For some reason, the irony of the situation again hit her. In many ways, Jareth and his cousin were very alike, especially when it came to a slightly perverted sexual appetite. The difference was that she knew she trusted Jareth with her life. She loved him and loved to be ruled by him. She was scared of Raemon. She hated him.

"If you deny me, it tightens. If you flinch, it tightens. If I feel like tightening it, it tightens. Do you understand?" Sarah nodded her head, not trusting her voice to conceal her fear.

Raemon reached down and tightened the screw. The pressure was intense, but not uncomfortable and Sarah was assailed by the inappropriate idea of how good it would feel to make love to Jareth while wearing this screw. Raemon smiled cruelly, guessing what she was thinking.

"Not for long Sarah," he taunted, running his hands down over her breasts. Involuntarily, she flinched away from his touch. Raemon leered. "Was that a flinch Sarah?"

Raemon's hand dropped to the screw and gave it another turn. Still the pressure was not unpleasant. Raemon's breath was coming faster now, his eyes bright with desire. His tongue flicked over his lower lip, catching at the blood that clung there. His hair fell in a dishevelled muss over his forehead, upon which beads of perspiration were starting to form as he watched Sarah's torment. Raemon reached round her and pushed his fingers deep into her back entrance. Sarah's eyes flew open but she managed to hold still. Raemon shook his head at her.

"Not good enough Sarah. You are trying to keep me out." He tightened the screw again. It was starting to get uncomfortable, although Sarah did not let it show. "Will you let me in Sarah?" Raemon asked again.

Again Sarah shook her head. Raemon reached down and turned the screw twice more. Sarah gasped in pain as she felt her nerve endings being crushed in metal.

"That's not fair!" she cried out and Raemon merely laughed at her, turning the screw yet again. His hand drifted to his crotch and he took hold of himself, rubbing slowly. His eyes flickered shut and his head rolled back on his shoulders, his breath becoming ragged. He opened his eyes to slits and observed her watching him. Raemon smiled nastily. He brought his lips to her ear.

"Life isn't fair," he whispered before lowering his head to her breasts and sucking hard. Sarah convulsed her body, trying to draw her knees up to her chest and throw him off.

"Uh uh," Raemon scolded and turned the screw again.

Sarah screamed. There was a crash somewhere above. Raemon pushed past her and stared up at the ceiling, cursing the interruption. He shut his eyes and an expression of concentration swam over his features. He was muttering something, some sort of calling. He opened his eyes. Raemon was crossing to the door when it exploded into the room, catching him down the length of his body and hurling him into the wall. For a moment he seemed to hang there, haloed by the white light emanating from through the doorway, blood starting to gurgle from between his lips, before he slipped down to the floor, landing with a sickening crunch in an unnatural tangle of limbs.

Jareth strode across the threshold, the powerful light around him fading as he lowered his hand. Sarah was hanging from the ceiling with her back to him, spread-eagled in midair. He reached into the air and took produced a crystal, which he caressed with his pale, ungloved fingers, before throwing it at her feet. The restraints and screw that Raemon had placed on her vanished, and she collapsed to the floor, Jareth crossing the room smoothly to catch her as she touched the ground. He looked down into her eyes. She looked dazed and disorientated. He stroked the column of her neck reassuringly.

Sarah heard the crash of the door and the crunch as Raemon hit the floor. She had had to screw up her eyes against the brilliant light that filled the room. And then suddenly she was falling as the restraints vanished and she failed to catch herself on her feet. Strong arms wrapped round her, lowering her down so that her head rested on something soft. Someone's lap. She pulled her knees up to her stomach, curling in on herself in a defensive position against all that she had been through. As she did so she became aware of another sensation. Overpowering and needful. The blood rushing back to her clit, swelling it and stimulating the nerve endings almost beyond endurance. She gasped, her body writhing in shock. Her eyes flew open and she looked up to see Jareth gazing down at her, concern etched on his beautiful features.

"Jareth, help me," she managed to moan.

Jareth held her in his arms, searching her eyes for what Raemon had done to her. Her legs shifted and he caught a glimpse of her engorged clit, throbbing and swollen. He was puzzled as to she had come to this state, but it was clear that she needed release from it. He reached down and pressed his ungloved finger to her, the naked rawness of his magic against her hot flesh sending her screaming over the edge as he held her in his lap, arms wrapped round her shoulders as he guided her down from her high.

"Pleased to see me I take it?" he quipped gently.

He kissed her lips tenderly, putting his relief at finding her, and his pain of their separation into it, letting her know what she meant to him. She kissed him back briefly, and fainted in his arms.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey everyone. Here is chapter 26. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to all my lovely reviewers...you know who you are, and a mention to Tenishii too, who has been with this story from the start and always reviews! Thankyou. And I love all my reviewers...equally and with no bias, especially those who have reviewed more than once. Anyway, thankyou to you all is what I'm trying to say. Love you! **

**On with the story. xxx**

Jareth held Sarah tight as she went limp in his arms. He lowered her back to the ground with a wry smile on his lips. He stroked a hand over her smooth cheek.

"Wouldn't be the first time a beautiful woman had fainted from the excitement of my kiss," he told her unconscious form.

Leaning back on his heels, he regarded her recumbent body, noting the twitch of her left index finger, and the quivering shake of reaction and cold that was slowly gripping her. He longed to whisk her home, make her safe, warm and comfortable so that she could recover from the trauma, but he knew that at that present moment he held higher duties to his kingdom. He raised his hand and waved it through the air, so that Sarah was at once wrapped in a thick blanket. He had been unwilling to dress her without examining her first, lest any form of clothing exacerbate any injury his cousin may have afflicted. Jareth frowned at Sarah. Something was still wrong, affecting his powers of accuracy. Patterning the blanket was a design of intricately embroidered spiders. He waved his hand and they writhed, but did not disappear. Deciding that it did not matter for the moment, Jareth sighed and rose.

The door was still smouldering as it lay in splinters on the floor. The tangy, metallic smell of heated copper was infusing the room where the hinges and lock glowed with red hot magic. Jareth stepped carefully round the wreckage to where Raemon lay on the ground. His back was twisted at an unnatural angle from around his waist, meaning that while his hips and pelvis faced one way, his chest twisted back at a ninety degree angle, compacted and hollow due to the multiplicity of broken ribs. His head was thrown back, his hair falling away to reveal a deep cut above his eyebrow. Raemon's lips were parted a fraction, and were coated in drying blood. More blood leaked from his mouth, and the glimpse of teeth showed that they too were stained black. Copious amounts of sticky black blood coated the floor and Jareth could not help a horrified gasp escape him as he realised its source. Protruding from Raemon's neck, jagged and approximately five inches long and tapering to a point, was a shard of wood. It had embedded itself deep, the only thing preventing horrifically fast blood loss being the splinter itself. As Jareth approached his cousin, his eyelids flickered. He was still alive. As the King of the Goblins knelt beside his renegade cousin, Raemon's pain filled eyes opened and sought his. His mouth opened and blood trickled from his lips. His eyes closed again. Jareth reached out his hand and placed it tenderly on Raemon's shoulder.

"You are brave, cousin," he whispered.

Raemon's face displayed the great effort that it took him to open his eyes. His cold blue eyes met Jareth's mismatched gaze.

"But you cousin, are valiant," he replied, the trace of a smile finding his dry and bloody lips.

"I am vain. More so than you. Had I been in your position, would I have done different?"

"Yes Jareth, you would have. You have capacity to love..." Raemon's eyes flickered in Sarah's direction.

"But it is easy to love one so beautiful..."

"...you show mercy... and valour towards your goblins...something I never could."

"We are the same, you and I."

"We could never be the same. I sought out the evil, you sought out the good."

"You are not evil."

"Do not pity me Jareth, never pity me." Raemon's eyes travelled to the stone roof as bitterness crept into his voice. "I do not seek approval of those who ousted my claim."

"Don't say it Raemon."

"My will was not as strong as yours. Evil spoke in my mind and I listened. And your kingdom is greater. I fought against the power you have over me..."

Raemon's breath hissed through his teeth and his eyes rolled up into his head as an agonizing wave of pain gripped his body. A sickening gurgle issued from deep in his throat as he fought to breathe through the blood filling his lungs. Jareth leant forward, pulling Raemon's torso into his arms.

"No Raemon, stay with me. Use your power, you can do it."

Raemon's glazing eyes sought out Jareth's face, but his cousin seemed distant and faraway. He tried to speak again, but blood bubbled into his throat and the words were lost. Jareth bent his head, trying desperately to hear his words. When he finally made them out, his body went cold.

"I lost them Jareth. Lost...control. And now...they have...mustered. Jareth...they are coming..."

Raemon's breath escaped in a gurgling sigh. Jareth sat still, cradling Raemon's body as the chill of dread marched through him. When he next looked down into the face of his cousin, Raemon's eyes had glazed over, staring sightless at the ceiling. Jareth stroked his hand fingers through Raemon's jet black hair, before drawing his hand down his face, unable to bear the ice blue vision of death.

"I'm sorry Raemon," Jareth whispered. "I never understood you, what it was like for you. I failed you. I am sorry."

Lifting Raemon's lifeless body from him, Jareth laid him tenderly on the floor. He straightened his twisted and broken form, laying his hands across his chest.

"Rest in peace Raemon," he said as he drew himself up and squared his shoulders, blinking back moisture that he would never admit to.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and his head snapped round. Nothing. He blinked and shook himself, wondering whether the events of the day were causing his mind to play tricks on him. He crossed carefully back to where Sarah lay and was about to gently shake her awake when he realised that something had changed. The spiders on the blanket had vanished. He frowned, knowing that they had failed to disappear when he commanded them. He held still, listening with all his might. A faint rustle caught his attention, but he forced himself not to react. Instead he sought the room with his mind. Listening to the telepathic fields at a purely subliminal level. The silence was eerie. Something was very wrong. And then he caught it. The faintest sound on the highest level of subconscious telepathy. Not more than a murmur, quickly suppressed. Coming from behind him.

Reaching carefully with the hand shielded by his body, Jareth pulled a crystal from the air, carefully shutting his consciousness and screening it from prying minds. He fought to keep his breathing steady even as adrenalin began to course in his system. He lowered his eyes to the crystal, willing it to show him that which was directly behind him. The crystal cleared and a picture formed.

Spiders were swarming and seething, giving the uncanny impression that Raemon's body was moving as they teemed over him. Hairy legs found footholds in the corners of his closed and sightless eyes, no breath issuing from his lips to disturb them as they pushed into his mouth. Silver haze was flowing from his mouth and nose as the spiders devoured the vestiges of life's thoughts that had remained within the body. Jareth closed his eyes slowly and took a steadying breath. Any mistake now would mean the difference between life and death. Slowly, Jareth erected a shield against his conscious mind, before banishing the crystal back into the ether. Diverting as much strength as he could spare to the protection of his thoughts, he reached with his mind across the plain, seeking the consciousness of the Labyrinth, needing more than the constant emotional connection provided. No connection. Jareth drew his mind back and strengthened the shield. He raised his hand and wrapped it round the medallion that hung against his chest. Grimacing against the pain, and suppressing a gasp, he tightened his fingers so that the Labyrinthian metal bit into his skin, his blood staining the smooth surface. He reached into the emptiness again.

"_You're faint Jareth, are you injured?"_

"_Iron my friend, but it is healing."_

"_They are coming Jareth. They are stronger than before."_

The words echoed hauntingly in Jareth's mind, not so much a voice as a stream of sentient consciousness, sent straight into him as though synonymous with his own thoughts. The feeling was anxious, and overpowering. Uncertainty gripping his heart in a vice. Pain at the groping within the telepathic fields. Sickening and twisting. Jareth gritted his teeth at the confirmation of his fears.

"_We must once more work together, my friend."_

"_The Goblin King asks for my help. None before have dared. I have power you can only dream of."_

"_I honour your power. I would use it for the protection of your people. I cannot do it alone."_

"_It is known. As is the pain. We are one Jareth, but I must ask again, Goblin King, as I did before, how came you to your powers, so much greater than those of your people?"_

"_From the day of my birth I heard your presence in my head, speaking with the voice of God. It is to that voice I am faithful, to that voice I am true."_

"_Well answered Jareth. Your pain disturbs me from my peace. It is twisting Jareth, coming ever closer. But what of the Champion, your bride?"_

"_She appeased your anger. She is clean."_

"_I enjoyed her torment. Felt it in the rocks and heard it in the water. It echoed silently throughout my entirety. I revelled in it. And she loves you?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then all is well."_

"_My friend, we do not have much time."_

"_And your voice is so weak, they must be near. Are you shielded?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Use the power wisely."_

Jareth broke the connection. Although he knew that the Labyrinth was always present in his mind, that he and it were intrinsically linked, the awe he felt of the power it vested in him, with permission to breach that scared rule and use, was something he could not win without. He felt the Labyrinth's tension in his mind, knowing that at this moment they were together and weak. Jareth closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. His eyes opened, and in them blazed the anger of betrayal and the force of his protection of his people.

Light flared and ice blue flames of magic swept through the room, devouring everything in its path. At the same moment, Jareth and Sarah disappeared. The spiders that covered Raemon's body screamed out in telepathic pain, legs curling up to low slung bodies as they burned. Raemon's body seemed to wither, the freezing hot flesh retreating from the bone, which turned shiny silver and crumbled to powder, carried upwards by the force of the flames. Better burned than devoured.

Out on the lawn two figures appeared, Jareth holding Sarah in his arms. Jareth leant forward, fighting against the effort it took to transport Sarah's unconscious form. Tenderly, he laid her on the grass at the base of the statue of a noble centaur. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled up at her rescuer. Jareth quickly fought to hide the signs of the crippling pain that was taking hold of his mind and heart.

"What happened? Where's Raemon?" Fear flashed across her face.

"He's gone," Jareth said briefly. "Sarah I need you to listen to me. Whatever happens, you must not move from the protection of this statue. Do you understand?"

Sarah nodded, her eyes wide, trusting implicitly that Jareth new best. He reached out a hand to her, but she involuntarily shrank away from the physical contact. Jareth withdrew his hand as though burned, his eyes sliding from hers.

"I'm sorry Sarah, I should have thought."

Sarah's eyes filled with tears as she fought to keep her lip from trembling. She shook her head mutely at him, unable to voice what she was feeling. A blinding bolt of pain shot through Jareth's head and he raised his hand, screwing up his eyes in an attempt to blot it out. Sarah let out a cry of alarm.

"Jareth, what's wrong....Jareth you're bleeding." As she caught sight of his hand. She caught hold of it and pulled it closer, examining the slice caused by the medallion.

"It's nothing Sarah...see?" Jareth reached for his magic, which seemed further away each time he needed it, and caused the cut to knit itself back together. "Better now," he stated, trying to conceal the great effort it had cost him to perform even this simple task.

Sarah nodded briefly and let go of his hand, as though wanting to have as little possible contact with him. Jareth desperately wanted to say something, do something to help relieve her anguish, but at that moment another bolt of pain shot through his mind, searing his physical being. It was accompanied by the Labyrinth's mental scream of torture.

"I'm sorry Sarah..." Jareth muttered, "I have to go. Don't move."

Sarah saw the intense battle of emotions that contorted his smooth features, felt his pain in some back chamber of her mind. She nodded again. Jareth rose and walked round to the other side of the statue, so that she would not see his weakness in the summoning of his magic, and wrapped his hand once more round the medallion.

"_Take me to your pain...take me to your source._"

Jareth, King of the Goblins, vanished into thin air, while his bride, The Coming Champion, finally dissolved into tears.

**Poor Sarah. She has been through a lot! And I almost feel sorry that Raemon is dead...it was quite sad killing him off, although he was very nasty...especially what he did to Sarah! Cahpter 27 is nearly ready too...although it's not very long. Please keep reading and let me know what you think. Love you all. FY.A xxx**


	27. Chapter 27

**Here it is, as promised. Not very long...but building up for the next chapter. Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think. Love you all. xxx**

As Jareth faded slowly into view, he immediately knew that something was wrong. Surreptitiously, he tried to fade himself out again, but something seemed to block him. The Labyrinth was calling. He tightened his grip on the medallion.

"_They are here Jareth. Jareth it hurts. Come to me Jareth. Come and stop the pain."_

"_How do I reach you? I can feel them all around."_

"_Use your cunning. Don't lose purpose."_

"_My magic is so weak...what is wrong?"_

"_Your shields Jareth. You're stopping them but you're stopping you. You must lower them."_

"_But they'll see me."_

"_Yes. And you must free us."_

"_Where?"_

"_His grave Jareth. Come back to his grave."_

Jareth lowered his head, biting his lower lip.

"_What if I'm not strong enough, what if I'm not worthy?"_

"_You stood there once before My King, you can do so again."_

The voice grew fainter in his mind, laced with pain.

"_Come quickly Jareth. I am retreating. I must hide now, or lose forever. Good luck Jareth."_

And for the second time in his life Jareth felt the yawning emptiness in his heart that signified the loss of the Labyrinth. The warmth of life that usually lay against his chest in the form of the medallion grew cold and heavy, dragging at his neck and weighing down his spirit. His heart trembled. In that moment, he felt lonelier than he ever had done in his entire life.

Across the miles of sprawling Labyrinth, Hoggle and the goblin froze in their actions of pinning the healer to the wall, and shuddered at the cold feeling of unidentifiable change that swept the castle.

"You. You helped cause this," Hoggle whispered in fearful tones. The panic stricken healer nodded and, as Hoggle released his arm from his neck, he fell sobbing to the ground.

Sarah felt the ambience of life flicker out of existence, as though a wave of death had swept through the world and something that was intangible, but inherently connected and present to the life of Jareth's kingdom, was suddenly switched off. She shuddered fearfully, her eyes seeking to pierce the growing shadows as she pulled her blanket closer around her trembling body. Her ears strained, terrified at the sound of silence as her mind went in to over drive, imagining the horrors that could be waiting to seize her, take her and force themselves on her. Something stirred within her and she sobbed at the fear of what it might be. The cylinder. Jareth's Labyrinthian cylinder. It was growing cold and heavy. Lifeless as any other chunk of metal. Howling at the betrayal Sarah tore it from her body and hurled it into the gathering night. She curled herself into the foetal position, shuddering as her sobs abated. She felt broken and used. She wanted Jareth to comfort her, but at the same time she could not bear his touch. She shut her eyes and another face swam into her mind. One with ice blue eyes and jet black hair.

Sarah moaned and covered her eyes with her hands, balling them into fists and screwing them into her eye sockets until the stars leapt and danced in the blackness. Why did he keep sending visions, she moaned inside her head. Why couldn't he leave her alone? But Jareth had said he was gone...and she recalled the sickening crunch as the door had been blasted off its hinges. But not before he had done his damage. Her body ached; her mind repulsed him, so why could she not get him out of her head?

"Go away," she cried into the darkness, "leave me alone."

Out of the silence that followed, Sarah heard the distinct sound of scuttling feet.

She moaned fear, pulling herself into a tighter ball, lifting the blanket over her head so that she would not have to see her death approach. And then, in the darkness, the husk of the girl that had been Sarah Williams, the Champion of the Labyrinth, fainted from fear and pain.

The congregating spiders circled the statue of the noble centaur, blocking off all lines of retreat. The circle grew in thickness as more of the creatures arrived, adding their numbers to those already gathered. But they did not move closer. Jareth had chosen wisely as the ancient power of the centaur protected the huddled and unconscious form at its base. The centaur, representative of and the only creature allowed to carry the tight drawn, stone carved bow of Hern the Hunter, Over Lord of all the animals. Even in replica, his power kept his people in check, as the sorrowful and kindly eyes of its bearer stared purposefully down the line of his arrow towards his king, where he stood at the centre of the Labyrinth.


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey people. Sorry it has been so absolutely ages since my last update. You won't believe it but my computer crashed and I couldn't access the operating system! I nearly lost everything, including this chapter which I had almost finished. Bad times! Finally got it back today, so have tried to get this out to you as quickly as possible. Thanks to all you lovely people who reviewed the last chapter, especially people who sent me proper reviews...again, you know who you are. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think...I love hearing from you.**

**Oh yeah...sorry for not replying to the last lot of reviews...this was because I didn't have my computer. Will try to be better this time. Promise. *Smiles sweetly.**

**Hope you enjoy. Love you all. FY.A xxx**

In the wake of the Labyrinth's retreat from existence, Jareth felt cold and empty. Squaring his shoulders he stalked forward into the centre of the clearing, seeking with his heart the way to go, searching towards the distant source of his power. His shields let no hint of magic through. Slowly, he lowered his first barrier. Nothing. He lowered the second. Still nothing. He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation before dropping all his barriers simultaneously pulling a crystal from the air, seeking the spiders with his mind. The sight he saw took his breath away.

Sarah was lying unconscious between the large stone front hooves of the centaur statue. Around her, in a circle comprising hundreds of thousands, the spiders had congregated. The snapping of tiny pincers and the glint of millions of malicious eyes, and the haze of evil magic, magic that defied the Labyrinths laws. Jareth's eyes widened in horror as the mists surrounding the statue cleared for a few moments, and he saw what the spiders were doing. The bow of Herne the Hunter was melting, almost imperceptibly as these creatures who had never learned to love him set their one, combined mind irrevocably against his authority. Jareth swore. They were breaking down his protection. They were going to reach Sarah. They were going to reach his Sarah. And they were going to hurt her. Jareth reached for the medallion around his neck, but found it cold and lifeless under his hand. Even as he watched, the centaur's proud head seemed to droop, the stone appearing to course down the muscled torso as the bow shivered against the magical assault of thought. Jareth shut his eyes and reached deep inside himself to the very source of his magic. This was going to hurt.

Sarah was walking through a beautiful green meadow under the sun of Aboveground. She smiled to herself as she knelt beside a clear stream and allowed the water to run over her fingers, cool and refreshing. But her smile was sad, despite the idyllic surroundings. There was an aura of sadness and loss, of momentary peace in an eternity struggle. She felt as if she was somewhere she should not be, she didn't belong here yet. And there was a restlessness, as though of waiting. She leant back and raised her face to the warm sun. The faint sound of singing reached her ears and she rose, turning on the spot to look for the source. Although no-one was in sight, the music seemed to drift nearer, and she laughed aloud as she realised she recognised the words. They tugged at her heart, asking her to understand. It was that old English hymn they had sung once in church on holiday when she had been young.

And did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England's mountains green?

And was the Holy Lamb of God

In England's pleasant pastures seen?

Sarah had enjoyed the rousing tune, the way the lustily singing voices echoed through the high vaulted ceiling of the ancient cathedral. But she had not understood the words, and her father hadn't been interested when she had asked. As they had left the church at the end of the service therefore, she had shyly asked the aging minister what the meaning of the words was. He had laid his hand on her shoulder, smiling gently at the young American girl who seemed to take a genuine interest in the matters of God. He had told something that shocked her. That the hymn, so well known and widely sung, was not actually written in praise of God, but was in fact precisely the opposite. The song had heathen or pagan connotations, but had been so widely misunderstood that it had found its way into the hymn book despite this. Sarah had gone away marvelling, and when they had reached their B&B had looked up the word pagan in the dictionary. This too had surprised her. The original meaning of the word was villager, those who had worshipped Mother Nature, life and the mystical mythical world of legend. They had been villainised by the church, the word villain itself arising from the old word for villager. They had been made evil. She did not understand why this had become so bad. She did not understand why the belief in the mystical servants of nature and the worship of God had to be mutually exclusive. Could not these servants be the servants of the one true God too?

And did his countenance divine

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark satanic mills?

The voices were much nearer now, and she wondered at their significance. Satan. Prince of Darkness. The fallen angel, who ruled beneath in the Kingdom of Hell. The singing was coming from behind her and she spun round. A group of men was moving through the grasses, wearing white cloaks, hoods pulled low over their foreheads. Each carried a crystal like the ones Jareth frequently conjured and spinning in each was a tiny, lighted figure. They walked with bowed heads and solemn step with the elegance and grace of a single unit. The commanded attention, inspiring in Sarah a deep feeling of power, although also the aching feeling of a deep and inconsolable sadness. The group stopped and as they continued singing the first of the group raised a hand and lowered his hood. His handsome face was framed by thick curly hair of a deep autumn leaf auburn, and his kindly eyes shone like with the clear blue green of forest pools. Curving up from his forehead were the velvet covered pricks of newly growing antlers, and as his sleeve fell back from his hands Sarah noticed the calluses and indentations synonymous with the master archer.

Bring me my bow of burning gold!

Bring me my arrows of desire!

The earthly form of Herne the Hunter smiled sadly at Sarah as he slowly faded from view, his voice echoing into the wind and remaining in its breath even once he himself had gone. The second of the group stepped forward and raised long, pale fingers to the rich, fur-trimmed hood. He was a beautiful fae, blond like Jareth and with the same proud features. A silvery scar ran round his pale throat, surreal in the deathly connotations it held. He looked at her intently, as though trying to convey some secret meaning. Sarah felt as though his voice was echoing throughout her soul.

Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!

Bring me my chariot of fire!

As they sang, he too faded from view. Another hood was lowered, another mystical king. He too was fae, older than the last, though still smooth of skin and clear of eye. His silver hair fell long round his shoulders and his eyes pierced Sarah's in such a way that she could not meet his gaze. As each stepped forward and faded Sarah found it harder and harder to look as she was overcome with guilt that she could not understand their message. And finally only one voice remained. The crystal in his hand looked smokier than the rest, like glass which has only just been blown, and the figure inside was more restless though the singer's voice was bold and clear.

_He_ will not cease from mental fight,

Nor shall _your_ sword sleep in _your_ hand,

Before the hood was down Sarah realised who it was. He did not fit with his ancestors, Sarah realised. Raemon's hair was dark as theirs was light, his spirit as restless as theirs were peaceful. But his gaze was as strong as he stared into her soul, willing the meaning to penetrate her mind. He started to fade, his expression becoming more desperate, pleading with his eyes that she should understand. He had changed the words, she realised. _He _instead of _I_, and _your_ instead of_ my_. There must be some significance. Sarah felt something heavy in her hand and looked down. A shining sword of Labyrintian metal with a pearl encrusted hilt. She stared at it in wonder, lifting her eyes to Raemon and questioning him wordlessly. He met he gaze steadily, seeking the realisation in her eyes. Searching for understanding as he too slowly began to fade.

Till we have built Jerusalem

In England's green and pleasant land.

And then, as he finally vanished from view, Sarah understood.

The spiders scattered in excitement as Jareth's voice echoed throughout their minds, strong and proud.

"_Spiders!" _he called. _"Spiders come and face me. I will fight you like a king and I will banish you as I did before, only this time it will be permanent. My cousin was weak, but I am strong. Face me if you dare."_

Jareth opened his eyes, breathing heavily at the effort it had taken to communicate with so many. His magic was weak and faraway, he felt giddy and sick without the presence of the Labyrinth, and his head ached from the tension in his telepathic consciousness. The strain of fighting them was starting to wear him down. He knew they would come now. That they would come for him. They would not be able to resist the temptation of a futile challenge from a Goblin King whom they knew to be weak. But he had had to lead them away from Sarah.

His eyes darted from side to side, nerves on edge as he strode silently through the darkness. There was a rustling from behind him and he spun round raising his hand. Fire ignited in a nearby bush and in its first glimmer he caught sight of many eyes, reflecting flame as they watched him, before they blinked and vanished. He turned and set off towards the ancient graveyard, knowing he must lure them to the only place where hope still resided, knowing they would try to stop him. He could feel them tugging on his mind, clawing at the edges of his inner consciousness and he sought to shut his mind to them without using any of the remnants of his magical strength. He strode into an avenue of dark oak trees, the flickering flames keeping pace with him as he sought to use their light and heat to keep the spiders at a physical distance. Halfway down the oak lined corridor, a crumpled figure lay shuddering. Jareth approached cautiously. Lying on the ground was the body of a beautiful fae woman. Her silvery blond hair was stained with the mud in which she lay, while leaves and twigs clung to the torn remnants of her once fine clothes. Her blue eyes were blurred with tears, the pupils dilated so wide as to swallow the irises completely, and her chest heaving as she fought some invisible but blinding pain.

"_Jareth_," she whimpered, "_oh Jareth, my boy, make it stop. Save me Jareth."_ Her arms reached weakly toward him.

Jareth stood silently for a second, staring down into the dying face of his mother as tears filled his eyes and he swallowed down the constriction that grew in his throat. Eventually he tore himself away, striding on purposefully and summoning up enough strength to address his enemy.

"_Come now spiders,"_ he taunted, _"surely you can do better than that."_

He stalked on, straight backed and proud barely flinching as mentally projected enemies launched at him, brandishing swords before fading from sight when he did not react. These were weak attempts to discourage him. He could see they were not real and they carried on substance or emotion. These were the hollow nightmares that dwelt beneath children's beds in the Aboveground. He, Jareth, King of the Goblins, was not scared of these phantoms. The spiders must have lost their touch in their long banishment from his kingdom. He caught sight of movement up ahead as a band of goblins marched into view. They seemed jubilant, punch drunk on their success as they sang in time with their footfalls, their pockets chinking with the sound of fae gold and their newly acquired Labyrinthian metal armour clanging. The carried spears, held aloft, each telling its own gory tale of the fight these renegade creatures of the Underground realm had just fought. As they drew closer, Jareth stared up into his father's eyes where they stared down sightlessly, his head impaled upon one of the goblin's spears. Jareth's mind fought down the emotions of the day of his father's death, seeking to quell the dehabilitating hopelessness he had felt in the hours after, knowing he was King but seeing no light in the futility of the situation. That, coupled with his own overwhelming grief, had nearly undone him. He battled these feelings now, knowing they held no place in the current situation. He looked up into the dead fae's eyes again, just as he had done all those years before, seeing a shadow of himself as he had been then.

"I'm sorry father," Jareth whispered as he tried to focus his mind and concentrate on where he had to get to. He no longer cared if the spiders overheard his thoughts; they would have worked it out soon enough anyway.

As he made his way into a dark thicket, images of Sarah began to fill his mind. Sarah screaming. Sarah in pain. Sarah burning and screaming his name, begging for his help. Her voice cut him to his very soul, but he did not pause. It's not real, he told himself sternly. But then a cry distracted him. Much more firm, much more real than the last. But not a cry of pain, a cry of passion. Sarah.

Jareth pushed his way into a clearing in the woods, thorns catching at his clothes, and the sight that met him tore at his heart. Sarah was lying on the forest floor, naked on a cloak of deep purple. Her eyes were closed and beside her was Raemon. Jareth watched as Raemon's hand traced down Sarah's body, tenderly caressing her bare breast before travelling on downwards. His hand stopped, his fingers buried between her legs and upon her face was an expression that only Jareth had ever known. Raemon bent his head, swirling his tongue round Sarah's taut nipple as his eyes flicked up to where Jareth stood watching. Sarah's eyes opened and she looked up at Raemon with eyes filled with love.

"_I want you Raemon_," she said. Her eyes turned to Jareth. "_Who are you? I don't know you. I love Raemon_."

As Sarah's lips locked with Raemon's Jareth fell to the ground, a cry of anguish escaping him.

"No!"

He lifted his head in time to see Raemon turn and smile cruelly at him as he thrust deeply into Sarah, gasping at the feeling. He ground into her, bending hi head to nip at her ear before turning his eyes on his cousin again.

"_You see Jareth?" _Raemon's voice sounded. _"She is mine. She was always mine. I can do anything. I can even do this."_

As he continued to thrust, a blade appeared in Raemon's hand. He laid it gently against her cheek and she moaned at the cold sensation against her flushed and passion filled skin. Gently, Raemon ran the flat edge down her body, between her breasts and lightly over her clit as she moaned and writhed in pleasure. He brought it to her lips, caressing the luscious pinkness before drawing it down her chin to rest against the smooth white column of her neck. Pressing hard, he drew it slowly across Sarah's throat. As the blood started to leak Sarah's mouth opened and she gagged for air, her eyes wide and panicked. Jareth felt frozen to the spot as Raemon dipped his head and put his lips to the wound, sucking gently. He raised his head again and stared at Jareth, his lips and teeth stained red from Sarah's blood. He lowered his head back to the cut, thrusting hard a couple more times before coming, biting into the ragged skin round the wound and worrying it with his teeth. As his passion abated, he faded slowly from sight and at the same moment Jareth felt himself able to move again. He ran to Sarah, splashing through the mud and blood were it pooled in copious amounts, soaking into the forest floor. He looked down into her eyes, watching in helplessness as the last glimmer of life faded from them.

The Goblin King let out a howl as he pulled the body of his love into his arms, her blood staining his clothes as he buried his face in her hair, sobbing uncontrollably.

Sarah's eyes flew open. Everything shone in beautiful clarity. 'And did those feet, in ancient times...' 'Bring me my bow of burning gold, bring me my arrows of desire.' Not the Lamb of God, but the ancient worship. Reality could fade to myth if left and disbelieved long enough. One had been missing from the group he had seen, and she now thought she knew who it was. The first King of the Fae. The founder of the Labyrinth. Sarah scrambled to her feet and looked round. She was all alone. The sword lay between the front hooves of her protector and she bent to retrieve it. She looked up at the centaur and gasped in shock. His bow was gone, as was his strong torso, melted away by the magic of the spiders. In its place was the head of a normal horse. Ears pricked and nostrils flared as though ready for the battle. Sarah stared at it. And then something hit her.

Pain, not physical but deep and cutting. Tearing her apart. But it didn't belong to her. It belonged to someone else. She screwed her eyes shut and summoned up as much of her strength as she could. She knew who it was. She knew it was Jareth. He was in torment, lost and alone. And so she screamed in her head, as loud as she could. Screaming to the Labyrinth for help. She waited. She heard no answering voice and recalled the feeling of the Labyrinth withdrawing. Maybe she couldn't be heard. She thought of Jareth, alone, vulnerable and in so much anguish. She called again. Putting all her strength and all the passion of her heart behind that call. Something shifted. Imperceptibly. And was gone. She looked round. Nothing had seemed to be changed. She leant back against the flank of the horse in hopelessness, resting her head against the point of its hip. It was smooth and silky. It was no longer stone. Warmth and life coursed through the statue as living spread through him and he swished his tail. Powerful wings unfurled as the last shards of stone rippled out of existence. Sarah flung her arms round Elixsyure's neck joyfully. Stroking her hand down his neck she stuck the sword through the belt on her jeans and tried to scramble up, knotting her fingers through his mane as he snorted and tossed his head. As she pulled herself astride Sarah realised that she had stuck the sword through her belt. She recalled the blanket that Jareth had left her in and looked down in astonishment. Once again she was dressed in plain jeans and a loose fitting shirt. Putting this mystery aside for the moment, she set her mind on Jareth and gently squeezed her heels against Elixsyure's body.

"Take me to the centre. Take me to the Labyrinth's pain," she whispered, recalling Jareth's command of earlier, "And take me to Jareth."

Elixsyure bounded forward off the stone podium, his great wings spreading and lifting them into the sky.

Jareth stumbled on numbly. He had finally torn himself from the body of his Sarah, shaking and weak from sobbing. Looking ahead, he saw a gap in the seemingly endless forest and realised he was nearly there. A deep bog sprang up in front of him and he found his mind no longer strong enough to deny its true existence and so he plunged into it, dragging himself through on his hands and knees as his lower legs sank into the mire. Shivering, he pulled himself upright and looked round.

Mist swirled in the ancient graveyard, the individual mounds picked out in the ghostly moonlight. It looked like a field filled with little hillocks covered in smooth turf. The magical here was so strong that Jareth could feel its tingling fingers running up and down his spine. He shuddered as a strange warmth filled his being, flooding his senses with waves of static energy. He lifted his eyes and scanned the mounded tombs. Although all looked the same he set off with purpose towards the innermost circle of graves, and the single mound that stood at its centre, marking the very centre of the entire Labyrinth.

Jareth strode forward purposefully, a new energy in his step as he neared his destination. At the edge of the trees, the spiders huddled in the shadows, not yet great enough in number to breach the ancient protective barrier of death. They clicked and scuttled, but stayed away. Jareth glanced neither to left or right, only once did he pause, standing before a mounded tomb. He extended a hand, touching the strong stone seal that marked the entrance to the mound, tracing the engraving that marked it as the tomb of his parents.

"Give me strength," he whispered, before striding on past it, deeper among the graves.

As Jareth passed through the last ring of the dead, that guarded the central tomb like silent sentinels, the first of the spiders tentatively stepped forward, as its peers sent waves of mental energy into the graveyard. It rocked slightly on the edge of the first circle, like a diver contemplating taking the plunge, before it stepped forward, breaching the barrier. A ripple of energy circled the meadow, and the fire with which Jareth had been warding off physical proximity, flickered and died. Quietly, the spiders began to surge forward.

Elixsyure's wings beat in a steady rhythm as Sarah crouched low over his neck, the wind whipping back her hair and snatching at her breath. This time, however, she took no pleasure from it. All she could think about was reaching Jareth in time, and the journey seemed to be taking forever. Her legs were starting to ache with the tension with which she was clinging to Elixsyure's sides, but the aching feeling of loss had eased slightly in her heart to be replaced with one of peace and acceptance. And yet throughout, her own fire, the will that urged her on, raged strongly.

Jareth felt the breach and broke into a run, knowing that he must reach the central tomb. His body felt heavy and tired, as though his limbs were made of lead and he stumbled several times, only just finding the strength to scramble back to his feet and drag himself onwards. Behind him, the spiders surged through the graves, the mounds seeming to be covered in flowing liquid as they teemed over the turf, chasing Jareth towards the end goal. After what seemed like an age of dragging his reluctant body forward, Jareth reached the bottom of the largest mound. It stood perhaps ten feet in height, and it was on hands and knees that Jareth began to ascend. He coughed against some restriction that his possessed mind was telling his body was blocking his breathing. About halfway up the side, he encountered the stone seal. His blurry mind refused to register what his mind was telling him. The carved stone, with its intricately carved picture of a beautiful fae man, carrying in his hand a set of reed pipes, stared back at him. But something was missing. The sword that should have crossed the doorway, protecting the founder of the Labyrinth through his life and through his death, was gone. Jareth shut his eyes and opened them again. It still wasn't there. He felt his body sag, as though accepting defeat as he turned to look back down the mound. The spiders were circling the foot of the grassy tomb, crashing against its base like waves against the cliffs. He pulled himself upright, leaning against the stone seal for support, wanting to face his death standing like a man, as the first of the spiders began to ascend the mound.

Jareth screamed in pain. He could feel each one of the spider's feet burning into his soul with every step it took. Before his eyes it grew, shimmering and taking on a humanoid form. A long flowing beard sprouted from the wizened face, the stooping shoulders belying the power that the creature held within his being. From his gnarled hand hung a twelve hour watch, swinging back and forth like the pendulum from a grandfather clock. In his other hand he carried a scythe, the polished iron glinting in the moonlight. Circling his white haired head was band of wood and needles of the evergreen trees of the world and as he smiled, it was clear his teeth were those of a fox. He took a firm step forward, further onto the incline at the base of the mound. He extended his hand, the watch swinging in even strokes from its chain.

"Jareth," he said and his voice was like the whispering of dry autumn leaves. "We meet again."

"Time." Jareth nodded curtly, drawing himself straighter against the seal stone as the searing of the ages burned in his heart.

"So long you have defied me. Hiding beneath the ground. You seek to stop my rule with the clock of thirteen hours. But I always catch up Jareth. Your time has come."

Old Father Time took another step forward and Jareth gasped in pain as his heart twisted in a vice like grip. Behind the old man, the next of the spiders took a tentative step forward, shimmering into being as his feet came into contact with the only Aboveground earth in the whole of the Labyrinth. His head was too big, his legs unnaturally supporting his weight, neck unable to support the weight of his skull so that his head lolled to one side. He had the grotesque appearance of a marionette's doll, unproportioned and twisted. His mouth hung open and water dribbled over his toothless gums and down his chin. His skin was of pearly white.

The drowned baby stepped to the side of the old man, who rested his hand on the head of his victim, smiling impassively. One by one the next circle of spiders stepped forward, transforming into their true forms, each the victim of the passage of time. Leering, sensing the lifetime of ages through which Jareth had lived, they flanked their captor, their dead eyes unseeing.

"You see Jareth? No-one can escape. Your father could not resist. Your mother...all shall come to me. Give in Jareth. Come and join us." Old Father Time extended his hand as a whispering rose among the dead.

Jareth shut his eyes, willing his breathing to steady and his legs to find the strength to stand. Reaching deep inside himself, he sought his magic, wrapping his hand round the medallion and seeking the voice of the Labyrinth.

"_Help me. What do I do?"_

He waited, but heard only silence. He opened his eyes slightly, seeing Time smiling gently at him. He closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming out of control as he fought the waves of dizziness caused by the stretching of his own timeline. It made him feel thin and weak.

"_I need help now. Please."_

"You have lost Jareth. Join us now. Even the one upon whose tomb you stand could not resist forever."

"He is not with you. He had his own magic, far beyond yours. You imprison the souls of the weak, but he found life everlasting," Jareth spat as his knees began to shake. He still did not open his eyes. "He will not desert us."

"He already has Jareth. You're already too late."

"_Jareth! When help comes, you must climb."_

Jareth's eyes flew open.

"_Who? Where?"_

But the silence was back. Time had not noticed the change in Jareth. He continued to speak.

"Even your great one hid from me. He built your little Labyrinth and hid in its centre. But Time found him in the end." The old man smiled cruelly and his teeth glinted in the moonlight. "Come now Jareth," and he stretched out his hand again. He took a step forward. And then he paused, cocking his head to listen as disquiet seemed to run through the spiders still waiting in the graveyard. Jareth looked over the old man's shoulder. The sight he saw made his aching heart skip yet another beat.

Sarah was running through the meadow, the spiders scattering around her, refusing to look down as many a hairy body was crushed beneath her feet. Reaching the mound, sparing not a glance for Time and his captives, moving through their midst as though she could no more see them as see the air, she flung herself to Jareth. Facing him and breathing heavily she gasped as she tried to explain.

"Melted...centaur...Raemon came...songs...hymns..."

Jareth snaked his warm round her waist and her face blanched at the feel of him touching her. She did not pull away, however as Jareth pulled her closer to his body, further away from the spiders. Over her shoulder, he saw Time smile and shake his head sadly, the grin turning wicked as he wrapped his watch chain round his hand again, making the length of the pendulum shorter, causing time to tick faster.

"Don't defy me Jareth. Put down your girl and come quietly. It is not her time, but if you do not give her up..."

Sarah showed no sign of having heard. Time advanced slowly up the hill as Jareth pulled Sarah closer against himself, his body gathering energy from hers as he used her as a shield against Time's grip of death. Behind her, where the old man couldn't see, Jareth straightened himself, feeling the power beginning to return. He smiled gently into Sarah's eyes. As he did so, Sarah became aware of a burning sensation at her chest, growing hotter by the minute. She felt it searing into her chest as though flames were scorching her. Jareth, however, had not reacted. He was focussed on something over Sarah's shoulder. Behind her head, Time raised his scythe, the moonlight glinting off the iron blade.

"Thank you," Jareth whispered, his lips barely a centimetre from Sarah's.

Time brought his blade down in a sweeping blow.

Jareth span Sarah away from him, pulling from her belt as he did so the jewel encrusted sword, bringing it to meet the scythe in a powerful upward swing. The clang of metal on metal rang throughout Labyrinth as Jareth stood face to face with Old Father Time, arms locked over head, neither giving way.

"So, Jareth, we cross blades once more," Time sneered. Jareth stared into the cold, unforgiving and unrepenting eyes slightly below him. There was a scuffling noise to his left and both he and Time turned their heads slightly, looking for it source.

Sarah scrambled to her feet where she had fallen as Jareth had pushed her from harm's way. A biting pain at her chest told her that somehow she had been badly burned. She turned, and screamed. Below her was the most nightmarish assortment of creatures that could be imagined. A dead baby, strung up and walking leered at her, its head flopping and water dribbling from its toothless mouth. Behind it stood a child, not much older than Toby, its head caved in from some vicious blow, its feet torn, shoeless and bloody. Jareth stood to her right, the sword locked above his head, a silent battle of wills in progress as he sought to bring down a death blow on the head of an old man who stood a step further down the mound. A heavy watch chain was wrapped round the handle of his scythe. The watch that hung from it was swinging back and forth very fast. Something was glowing slightly through the gap in Jareth's shirt, shining with a heat that told Sarah that this was what had burned her. Although it lay against Jareth's chest he seemed to feel nothing. But what astounded Sara h most was the cacophony of noise inside her head. It was as though every person in the meadow was screaming loudly in her ear. A jumble of noise overrode her senses, as she realised she could hear their thoughts. Light flashed before her eyes and a deeply sick feeling rose in her stomach.

"_This is more than a nightmare",_ she thought, "_and I'm too old for nightmares."_

And then something horrible happened. Into her head came the voice of the old man. It had the sound of rustling leaves, although it was cold and comfortless.

"_No Sarah," _he crooned, _"you're never too old for nightmares. In the Aboveground you just become drained, so my spiders could longer feed off your thoughts."_

His eyes left hers and suddenly, putting in a great effort, he pulled his scythe downwards in a sweeping arc, breaking the deadlock and losing contact with the sword. In that moment, he and all his creatures vanished again from before her eyes, to be left with only an array of spiders. What followed made Sarah's head spin. Jareth was cutting, parrying and darting, the sword flashing in the moonlight, and every time his sword made contact with the scythe of the old man, he and his minions would appear to Sarah's eyes. It was like the effect of some weird strobe lighting in her head, except that with each flash of vision would come a tumult of noise as the thoughts of the creatures poured into her head.

Jareth fought like a daemon, weaving to avoid the bite of the iron blade. Slowly, he was backing up the hill, stepping away from the slowly advancing Time. He grasped Sarah's wrist, pulling her behind him and yelling at her to climb. The top of the mound ran in a smooth green curve and at its centre was a circular stone slab. Embedded deep into the rough hewn rock was a jewelled clock face, made of the same Labyrinthian metal as the sword which Jareth held. As Jareth reached the crest of the hillock, he turned and ran, grabbing Sarah's hand and pulling her after him, coming to stand at the edge of the stone disk. Sarah looked round, but could again see no-one.

Time paused as he crested the mound, watching Jareth through narrowed eyes before raising his scythe again and advancing slowly forward.

"Submit now Jareth," he warned, "you do not have the power. No mere fae King can command the power of Pan."

Jareth turned to face him, meeting his eyes steadily, straight backed and proud.

"I am no mere fae King," he said and his voice rang clearly throughout the ancient graveyard. "I command power my forbears could only dream of, for I carry the gift of Pan, founder of the Labyrinth, upon whose grave we now stand."

Jareth raised the sword above his head, looking up to its tip, silhouetted against the moon. Sarah felt him take hold of her hand again, linking his fingers back through hers and squeezing gently. And then, with no warning, she heard his voice inside her head.

"_He is over the crest of the mound. He is advancing."_

Sarah looked at Jareth in surprise, nearly dropping his hand in shock, but Jareth held her firmly. He was still staring straight ahead, clearly focussing on the foe that she could no longer see.

"_Concentrate on the clock Sarah, and concentrate on me."_

Sarah squeezed his hand once in acknowledgement before dropping her hand back to her side, stepping away to stand at the other side of the circle, so that she could keep both Jareth and the click in her sightline. She saw Jareth draw a deep breath.

Time smiled cruelly at Jareth. "Even your girlfriend steps away. She gives you up for dead Jareth. And you are. You should have been mine many thousands of years ago." He advanced further and Jareth drew a deep breath, wrapping his hand round the hotly glowing medallion.

"_Are you ready Jareth?"_

"_Yes, my friend, I am ready."_

"_Good luck."_

"_And to you."_

Jareth looked directly into the eyes of Old Father Time.

"Pan, the founder of the Labyrinth, sought to defeat Time with time. The addition of a thirteenth hour left your timescale useless in the Underground. I now invoke his ancient magic. I call on the Labyrinth to save her people, to restore Pan's magic and banish these creatures of Aboveground."

"_Hold tight Jareth."_

"I speak to the Labyrinth and I know her will. You will not terrorise her subjects, feed off their thoughts and trouble them with nightmares. You will not break the Underground magic of the Labyrinth as you broke the mystics of the world above. I call on you Pan, upon whose tomb I stand, to protect your creation, to protect your people. Pan, founder of the Labyrinth, I call on you now."

Jareth swung the sword high, turning it in the air and driving it into the mossy turf at his feet. The medallion at his chest burst into light and Sarah felt a tug at her mind, as though someone had linked her into a circle of nature. She could no longer control her own thoughts. She was spinning madly, falling and yet the ground was solid beneath her feet. Time appeared before her again, lunging angrily towards Jareth, his face twisted in rage. Sarah wanted to cry out and warn him, but her mouth was full of a metallic taste and she could not control her tongue. She had to screw up her eyes as the light of the sun blazed for the medallion where it hung against Jareth's skin. The pain in the burn grew and intensified, adding to the swimmingly disassociated feeling in her mind. Next to Jareth's shoulder, a ghostly replica of the clock at his feet hovered as he raised one hand. The clock hands began spinning faster and faster, finally coming to rest on the thirteenth hour.

Somewhere, a clock began to chime.

One.

It echoed in Sarah's head like the ringing of a death toll. It swung through the ancient graveyard causing the remaining spiders to cower, crouching low to the grassy ground. It resounded through the hollow stone corridors of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, reverberating round the spot where Hoggle and the goblin crouched, arms covering ears in protection. And the sound resonated through the living soul of the Labyrinth, where she crouched beneath Jareth's feet.

Time screamed. His arms flailed wildly above his head as the watch chain was ripped from his hand to soar upwards into the sky.

Two.

The creatures on the mound were blasted backwards, dissolving back into their arachnid form as they left the safety of the tomb.

Three.

Tangling legs and tiny bodies crushed together as the spiders from across the graveyard were hit with wave upon wave of power as it emanated from the red hot medallion.

Four.

Jareth could feel his arms beginning to shake and his grip slip on the hilt of the sword as he struggled to contain the vast power of the Labyrinth channelling through his body.

Five.

He fought the need to release, to break the connection as the exhaustion of the past events threatened to sap his strength and deprive him of the power he needed to finally rid the Labyrinth of its invader.

Six.

Time writhed on the ground at his feet as the sixth chime struck. The shaking intensified and Jareth's right hand, already weakened from the iron poisoning began to slip.

Seven.

Time opened his eyes. He stared up at Jareth and began to laugh dryly.

Eight.

"I told you Jareth," he croaked. "You could never win."

Nine.

His eyes widened in horror as Jareth seemed to straighten.

Ten.

The strength came back into his posture as a second pair of hands covered his, arms wrapping round his waist from behind to support his body.

Eleven.

Time began to twitch horribly.

Sarah bit into her lip so hard she tasted blood as the power surged through Jareth, burning her body where she touched his. The strength of it threatened to break her bones as the shuddering worsened and the tenth stroke could be heard throughout the Labyrinth.

Twelve.

Blood began to pour from Sarah's nose as her teeth rattled in her skull, her entire body juddering out of control.

The thirteenth chime struck.

Time seemed to curl in on himself. Then he exploded outward, flying spread-eagled into the sky, following the path of his watch chain. As the echoing of the final chime faded through the Underground a rent appeared in the sky, and through it could be seen the colder sky of Aboveground night. A roaring, whooshing noise filled the air and it was as though a localised vacuum had been opened as, in a tangle of hairy legs and crushed bodies the spiders were lifted into the sky, sucked Aboveground into the land in which they belonged.

The last of the creatures vanished and the tear in the sky closed.

As silence swept back through the physical aspect of the Labyrinth, Sarah's bloodshot eyes rolled up into her aching head and she collapsed onto the soft turf at the summit of Pan's tomb.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hey guys. This chapter is very short and has actually been ready since just after I last posted. I couldn't put it up without the chapter that follows it though...for fear of the consequences. Despite this, please read and review this chapter for reading the next one...you'll understand why when you read.**

**I won't say hope you enjoy...**

**But do please review!**

**FY.A xxx**

As Sarah hit the ground the blood on her face vanished, as though wiped clean by an invisible hand. Her face relaxed and the twitching and shuddering stopped. She lay still where she fell. Jareth turned slowly, relinquishing the support of the sword unwillingly. Shakingly weak he let his eyes fall reluctantly on Sarah, knowing what he would see.

Her legs had crumpled as she had fallen, so she lay on her back, knees bent slightly to one side, arms outstretched in the shape of the crucifix. Her eyes were closed and her expression was relaxed and peaceful. Jareth stared down at her complete and utter stillness, knowing in his heart, but refusing to accept what had happened.

Like one in a dream, he knelt down by her side. Reaching out he took her hand in his, squeezing it gently as he gazed at her unresponsive face. His long white fingers caressed her pulseless wrist as the tears began to slide silently down his cheeks, dropping onto the soft turf upon which he knelt, leaking into the soil that covered the tomb of Pan.

There, under the fading stars of the Underground pre-dawn, as the rest of his Kingdom celebrated his victory, the Goblin King lay himself out by the side his love, staring numbly up at the twinkling souls of his ancestors, knowing his mortal Sarah could never join them.


	30. Chapter 30

**And now the next bit...sorry this is a bit hard...**

**Please read and review. FY.A**

It was a few hours later that the Labyrinth crept up through the soil of the tomb where she had lain hidden during the struggles. She crept into the mind of her sleeping king, feeling the crippling pain that had engulfed his soul. The guilt that she felt at her initial jealousy of Sarah grew, threatening to overpower her. She fled from his body and watched from a distance as the two figures lay together, one chilled, and the other never to be warm again. She sent tendrils to the outer reaches of her physical being, and deciding that she could afford to grieve for a short while longer, slunk back beneath the grassy mound to enter into pain ridden negotiations within aspects of herself.

And it was perhaps a few hours after that, that Jareth wearily opened his blurry eyes, wondering what had woken him. His whole body ached and the weight of grief had settled into his heart as though it had always been there. He rolled so as to face away from Sarah, as though if he did not look at her, it could not be true. He pulled his knees up to his chest and shut his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill from beneath his lids.

The knocking that had awoken him sounded again. Grief turned to anger in an instant as Jareth sat up, wondering who could possibly be disturbing him. He wanted to be alone with Sarah. No, he reminded himself, he wanted to be alone. He looked round, his eyes flashing dangerously; signalling death to any goblin tat dared approach.

A third time the knocking resonated from beneath him. Jareth felt himself freeze as cold tendrils of horror crept through his. The knocking was coming from inside the tomb. Slowly he unfolded himself from where he lay; feeling the blood surge back into his cold, stiff limbs. He forced himself not to look at Sarah, but strode across the top of the tomb and down the side to where the large stone seal was set in the grassy wall. He crouched down in front of it, staring hard before putting his ear against the rock. He listened hard for a few moments.

Nothing.

Wait.

Something.

A dry, rasping noise, brittle and laboured. Breathing. Jareth jerked his head away in shock, staring in confusion at the solid stone. The beautiful fae figure stared back at him, his kind eyes looking into Jareth's, his stone lips blowing gently over the top of his set of pipes. Jareth blinked. He forced his memory back to the moment that he first saw this carving, as Old Father Time had chased him and he thought all hope was lost. Hope is lost; he thought dully, Sarah is gone. He tried to picture the carving again. He could not be sure, but he had the distinct impression that Pan had not been playing the pipes, but had been leaning against a tree of his own creation, contemplating his instrument thoughtfully. Jareth looked back at the carving. Pan was definitely playing them now.

Jareth raised his fingers and traced the stone figure in wonderment. At his touch, it began to glow. Gradually the brightness grew and Jareth stepped away from the seal-stone, shielding his face form the blaze. The light drew back with him, connected by a thread of fire to the medallion at his chest. Jareth could feel his face burning and yet he could no longer step away, the connection holding him in place. He threw up his arms to cover his face, shielding himself from the scorching heat. He fell to his knees as his trembling legs gave way beneath him and he accepted, for the second time that day, that this was how he would die.

And then the heat was gone. Slowly, Jareth raised his head. Before him, haloed by the morning sun, stood a figure, so tall that Jareth would barely reach the shoulder. The skin was the deep brown of one who is exposed to the elements, the muscles strong and defined, telling of hard toil. The shoulders were broad, firm and solid. The feet were bare, toes separated as of one who rarely wore shoes. Framing the face was a mass of thick, auburn hair that fell freely down past the man's shoulders. But it was the face that held Jareth's attention, caught his breath held him rapt. The high cheekbones and finely framed jaw told of nobility and beauty. The nose was thin, but running flat to the face, giving more the impression of a wild animal than that of a man or fae. And the eyes. Oh the eyes. They were slanted like those of a cat and held within them the deepest capacity for cruelty, and for kindness. They held contradiction of the highest sort, and yet Jareth trusted them implicitly. One was of the clearest blue of the morning sky, the other the deepest black of the most haunted night. Jareth blinked his own mismatched eyes wordlessly, staring up at the figure of Pan.

After what seemed like an age, he eventually broke the silence.

"My Lord," he whispered bowing his head.

"_Jareth_," the ancient voice rasped across the ages. "_My son."_

Jareth bowed his head again.

"_You awake me from my long sleep."_

_Jareth could think of no reply. Those eyes were staring so deeply into his soul._

"_You have won and yet you grieve. My Labyrinth told me of your loss."_

Although Pan did not offer condolences, his words were balm on Jareth's aching heart. For the first time since the spiders had vanished, he felt he could breathe again. He raised his eyes and tried to match his usually sure stare to that which was the extreme of his own.

"_You are strong Jareth, and you are brave. My Labyrinth loves you very much. She told me while she crouched with me that you are the most important one, the most loving one towards her, since I myself_." Pan's strong fingers caressed his pipes gently, lovingly. "_She is my remaining song, my soul in freedom. She is me and she is of me. I created her. I could not bear her to feel pain. And yet she writhes in your agony. You are twisting my heart Jareth."_

Jareth ducked his head, unable to face the sympathetic accusation in that gaze any longer.

"_Take me to her."_

Numbly, Jareth shook his head. Somewhere in his subconscious, he was aware of the Labyrinth's return as she slunk out from behind her Lord and Master, breathing life back into the world around them. The sun shone brighter and the grass waved gently in the breeze. The part that the Labyrinth occupied in Jareth's soul became filled again, whispering words of comfort. Bu the hole in his heart was too big for the Labyrinth to fill. She could not block his pain. His legs were trembling again and his vision was blurring with unshed tears. He could not take Pan to Sarah. He could not.

"_Jareth," _and the voice was firmer this time, "_take me to her."_

Like a sleep walker, Jareth led the way up the hill. He paused as he reached the brow, staring properly for the first time at the body of his wife. He felt a hand on his shoulder, heavy and reassuring. Together, the stared at the immobile body. Eventually, Pan shifted beside Jareth, but Jareth did not turn his head. It was as though now that he had looked, he could not look away.

"_What would you do to save her?" _Pan's voice was smooth and yet it cut through Jareth like a knife in his heart.

"She is beyond saving now," he whispered, his voice catching as his emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

"_What would you do to save her?" _Pan asked again and his fingers curled round Jareth's shoulders until his long nails cut through the fabric of his shirt and punctured into his skin. Jareth revelled in the pain. He could understand it. It felt real.

"Anything," he muttered, tearing his gaze from Sarah's prone body to stare fixedly at the grass before him.

"_Yours has been an existence riddled with loss, pain and betrayal. Your mother ripped from the heart of your family when you were but a boy. Your father mercilessly butchered and paraded before your eyes. You succeeded to an impossible throne for a warrior to control, when you were hardly a man yourself. You were betrayed by those you loved."_

"Raemon," spat Jareth. And suddenly the tears were falling freely as he recalled Sarah's last hours. Not those of comfort but those of pain, torture and fear. His mother screaming for him to save her from the pain, while he could do nothing. His uselessness and impotency, his cowardice before his father's death. He could have done more. But now they were all dead. All those he truly loved. Dead.

"_But that's what makes you different Jareth. That's what makes you stronger. You can love."_

"After my father was killed," Jareth began, his voice cracking, "after they killed him...I didn't care if I lived or died. I threw myself with such passion because I didn't care if it led to my death. And so I won. Because I refused to be a coward again. I served my Kingdom and I loved the Labyrinth. In time I found I could forgive the goblin race, as I found that they were like me. I had played with them when I was young. I understood that they, like me, were governed by things beyond their control. So I existed. But that was all. And I did not feel guilt because guilt would have broken me. But she..." his voice broke as his eyes travelled back to Sarah's body, "...she gave me meaning. She gave me life. She gave me love. Unconditional, not like the goblins. For me. She understood that I am cruel...not human. Not like her. And now..."

"_Would you really do anything?"_

Jareth nodded his head dumbly, knowing he couldn't live without her, knowing that he had to. He couldn't give up on his people that needed him.

"_Would you give her up?"_

"What?"

"_Would you give her up to let her live? Return her to her old life. Aboveground. Let her forget you, fall in love, live out her natural life and die as an old woman. Could you do that Jareth? Could you do that...really?"_

Jareth thought of how it had felt to know Sarah was there, just out of his reach after she returned with Toby from the Labyrinth on her first visit. He recalled the heartache; the twisting feelings of jealousy that had made him hurl his crystal into the stone walls, storm at the goblins and sweep food from the tables of the hungry. He thought of the hope that had kept him sane, a beacon of light in the darkness of his existence. Could he relive that pain without that hope? He imagined flying in owl form to her bedroom window. Watching her make love to a man that was not him. Seeing her bring life that was not part of him. He thought of her growing old, the fire in her green eyes fading and her resolve weakening as she was swept away in a tide of confusion, forward in a world to which she no longer belonged. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. And could he watch her die, her children that were not his gathered around her, his name far from her lips. Unrecalled. Unknown. And what if, in that moment, she had chanced to look from her hospital window, and see the grey white owl watching her. What if, in that second, he caught a spark of recognition? Too late. Too long ago. Now and forever more. He had promised her a forever. Could he live that forever without her? Could he let her return? He looked over at Sarah's prone and lifeless body, alone atop a tomb in the most ancient graveyard of them all. And he knew the answer.

Wordlessly, he nodded his head.

"_Jareth," _came Pan's voice from beside him, "_there is another way. Jareth let me show you something."_

Pan lifted Jareth's hand and placed it so that he could feel the steady rhythm of his own beating heart. Jareth looked at him, not comprehending. Pan guided Jareth's hand to rest against his own naked chest. There was no heart beat. No breath. The skin was warm and smooth beneath his fingers and he could feel muscle ripple as Pan shifted his stance. But there was no life signal. Jareth stared up into Pan's eyes in astonishment.

"_Let me show you," _Pan repeated and Jareth noticed for the first time that Pan was speaking into his thoughts, his lips unmoving. Pan slid his hands down Jareth's arms, threading his fingers through his, holding his hands gently in his own. "_Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Reach for that magical charge in the air around you. Don't think about it. Feel it. Listen to the wind. Feel the soil. Touch the life."_

And all at once Jareth felt it. The life of the Labyrinth, more intimately than he had ever done before. He felt her mind caressing his body with her fingers of warmth. The wind came in deep sighs, as though through the parted lips of a lover and her heartbeat coursed through the ground giving life to the soil. There was a sweet scent, of peaches and moss, and when he opened his eyes the world around him shone with the glow of powerful life force.

"_This is my heartbeat. This is my breath."_

Jareth stared into the ancient eyes that looked down at him in wonderment at the magic this being, this powerful fae had wrought. Pan spoke into his head as his eyes bored into his soul.

"_You knew of the magic Jareth. All those years ago. Yet you still denied it because you refused to believe that we would be here today. You refused to believe what you did not want to believe. Refused you could succumb to what you saw as a weakness. Love. But prophesies have a way of working themselves out. "_

Jareth thought of the young Sarah, desperate to reach her brother. Desperate to save another person. In that moment, she would have done anything. And she had. She had jumped. She had beaten him. A smile flitted across Jareth's lips at the thought of the young and feisty Sarah, so full of life, lost in his illusion. _Love without your heartbeat. I...I...can't live within you..."_

"They were just words," Jareth muttered.

"_But her heartbeat is gone...and yet you still want her to love."_

"I'm not worthy. I'm a jealous lovesick fae. I kick goblins for pleasure.

"_Because they enjoy it too. You would have given her up. You would have given your life for my Labyrinth. You chose I bride who gave hers."_

"She was chosen long before either of us were born."

"_Yet you were not so selfish as to deny it. Never doubt you are worthy Jareth. Labyrinth loves you. She cannot bear to see you thus broken. And so for her, if for no other reason, the ancient magic shall be invoked once more this day. Hand me my sword."_

Awestruck by the power commanded in Pan's being, by his generosity, by his love, Jareth tugged the Labyrinthian sword from the soil and handed it to its master. A ripple of energy swept through the graveyard as Pan's hand closed round the hilt. The blade began to glow gently. Pan stepped forward and knelt reverently beside Sarah's body.

"My Lady," Pan spoke aloud, "I owe you thanks. Please, accept my gift."

He rose and reached for Jareth's hands, drawing the blade of the sword lightly across his palms. As he did so, identical wounds opened on Sarah's hands, but as the black blood began to leak down Jareth's fingers, Sarah's wounds gaped, bloodless from the lack of circulation. Pan raised the blade again and drew the edge down the middle of Jareth's lips, opening a cut that matched the one appearing down Sarah's blue lips.

"_Share your lifeblood Jareth. Share your life."_

Jareth knelt slowly, the hot blood sticky on his face and hands. He linked his fingers through Sarah's pressing the wounds together. Gradually, he lowered his lips to hers, closing his eyes as they made contact. As his blood streamed into her open wounds, Pan faded slowly back through the grassy tomb to his resting place in the earth.

The Labyrinth wrapped her arms round her King as he embraced his love, caressing him with tendrils of comfort.

"_Take her home My King,"_ she whispered.

Jareth wrapped his arms round Sarah's still inert body and reached for his magic.

All at once, everything in the meadow graveyard was peaceful again. Stillness returned and the sorrow receded. The graves lay silently, sentinels on watch. Secret keepers who would never betray a trust. Kings of harmony, queens of calm. The hopeful, the wishful, and the lovers. All bearing witness to the power and majesty of the one who lay at their centre, and the great respect he held for the King of the Goblins, who resembled him so strikingly.

And in the castle, where the Labyrinth had returned, the same Goblin King laid his wife in his own soft bed, leaning down to kiss the pulse point, as it made its first flicker in the column of her neck.

**In case anyone is wondering, this is still not the end...there is a bit more. Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. And today there is a public thankyou shout to ****tichtich2! Thanks for the all the great reviews! Love your style! And thanks to everyone else who has reviewed/added alerts/favourite story etc. You keep me going...so I love you all!**

**Lots of luv FY.A xxx**


	31. Chapter 31

**Ok, so you've heard a lot about it now. Here is the prophesy. Jareth thought this would be a good interval to include it in. **

As Creation shakes each twelfth hour

Many leaves shall fall

Turning yellow, dry and broken

Time shall claim them all.

But in the deep, Creation's servant,

Loving, full of care,

Gives his blood, his mind, his heartbeat,

His breath becomes the air.

When Time's dominion seems to crumble,

Thirteen stops the circle round

Then Creation's servant sleeping

'neath the smooth and grassy mound.

But twelve will chime afore thirteen,

So Time can breach that wall,

Bringing heartache, sorrow, bloodshed.

His Labyrinth shall call.

Pan lies quiet, Herne's antlers broken

Deep, Creation cannot see

Injustice' spears when raised, rich stained,

Black with Royal blood shall be.

Then Creation's servant's eyes,

One of night and one of day,

In a King will now be opened,

Come the monstrous Time to slay.

Once the Light will banish horror,

Striking down encroaching sleep

But Light himself will be defeated,

This conquering an honour, keep.

Emeralds blaze, set face of courage,

Desperation in her stride,

Creation's servant's riddle broken,

She shall be the Light One's bride.

Time will stop and love will blossom,

The tree of fruit begin to grow,

Before the clock that striketh twelve,

Shameful, faceless, dare to show.

Stealing thoughts to finance evil,

Ceaseless from the dark they strive,

Sleepers' peace is rent asunder,

Of two but one is left alive

Desperation follows battle,

Salt water kisses deep of brave,

'til Creation's servant wakens,

Bringing hope, to serve, to save.

Strong sword in hand to wield and gentle,

Death aligned so close to life,

Black will flow to bloodless chalice,

An end to anger, fear and strife.

Loss and pain so closely allied,

Light would gift her up Above,

Giving up his breath, his heartbeat,

To live within the one he loves.

Death for both gives life eternal,

From ancient magic to invoke,

Linked forever, one becoming,

Turning on harsh words once spoke.

When truth hurts like the hell it is,

So hope rise in the strength of line,

Giving lovers one forever,

In which to crush the world of Time.

**Keep reading!**


	32. Chapter 32

**Ok, so back in the castle...**

Jareth ran his hands down Sarah's beautiful face, awestruck as the pallor of death began to recede, colour tinting her cheeks once more. He felt weak and drained, his vision slightly blurred. Gently, he lay his head on Sarah's chest where he knelt beside the bed, pressing his ear against the faint sound of her heartbeat and marvelling at the brilliance of the tiny sound. Her chest rose and fell imperceptibly as her lungs began the struggle of breath, and Jareth found the rhythmical rise and fall lulling him into drowsiness, as his own weakness began to overtake him.

Vaguely, he thought of the wounds that Sarah had sustained. His head seemed far too heavy as he lifted it and his eyes fought blackness, unable to clearly focus on her face. With great concentration he managed to raise his hands to the buttons of Sarah's shirt, but could not gain enough control to undo them. Through the thick fog clouding his mind he fought the frustration, giving in and tearing the blouse open. He leant close, like a short sighted old man, to peer at the burn in the centre of her chest. Silver lined and smooth, it was a perfect imprint of his medallion.

Jareth sat back. His chest hurt as though cramped and bursting at the same time. He tried to draw breath but it felt it as though the air had turned to water around him. His reflexes told him to choke, but though his lungs spasmed no air could be expelled.

On the bed, Sarah breathed deeper, her eyes beginning to flick beneath her lids in her unconsciousness. Jareth turned himself towards her, but sparks and lightening were disturbing his vision, black tongues of flame leaping across his sight. He raised his hand to his cut lip, but no blood was flowing from the split anymore. He brought his hand close to his face and squinted at the sword slice. The black liquid was drying, and the edges of the wound were starting to gape. A vice like pain seized his chest, and it felt as though his left arm was on fire. In his last conscious moment he thought of Sarah, and then his eyes rolled up into his head as blackness overtook him.

Sarah was walking through the meadow. Again she basked in the sunshine; again she knelt to twinkle her fingers through the clear, gurgling stream. But there was something different. Something had changed. A thing that was intangible, almost unidentifiable. Little more than a feeling. It was a sense of peace. A sense of belonging. She could not remember why she was here, or where she had been before she came. All she understood was that this was where she wanted to be. This was where she was home. The sun warmed her bare arms and in the stillness she slowly unbuttoned the loose fitting blouse she was wearing, knowing it would no longer be needed. She slipped out of the stonewash jeans, letting them fall onto the smooth stream bank. As the last item of clothing vanished from the meadow, Sarah turned, opening her arms and revelling in her nakedness.

Singing floated across the forget-me-nots, stirring in her soul the desire to join the euphoric voices. The melody was beautiful, and sad, and longing all in one. It had the lilt of the Gaelic and as she listened, she again felt recognition start within her.

Away to the West, where I'm longing to be,

Where the beauty of heaven unfolds by the sea,

Where the deep purple heather blooms fragrant and free,

On a hill-top high above the Dark Island.

As she listened to the words, the image of a grassy mound swam into her mind. A place of resting, of beauty, of freedom. She felt a deep longing for the place. She felt the love for mystery, fantasy and legend stirring in her heart.

Oh, Isle of my childhood I'm dreaming of thee,

As the steamer leaves Oban, and passes Tiree,

Soon I'll capture the magic that lingers for me,

When I'm back, once more upon, the Dark Island.

As Sarah was overcome with a sense of the enormity of the creation of the night sky, Herne the Hunter lowered his hood and extended his hand, smiling into her eyes. She felt drawn to him, her feet slowly carrying her towards the group. As Jareth's father lowered his hood, the pale silver scar was again revealed. He smiled in welcome and recognition and then he too extended his hand towards her, offering her a hooded cloak, as they wore, of pure silver white.

Oh gentle the sea breeze that ripples the bay,

As the stream joins the ocean and young children play,

On a strand of pure silver I'll welcome each day,

And I'll roam, forevermore the Dark Island.

Forevermore.

Forever.

Forever and ever.

Sarah accepted the cloak and pulled it round her bare shoulders. It fitted perfectly, was warm and soft, smooth as her skin. Another of the fae ran his fingers through her hair, capturing it in a silver clasp with the insignia of a flying owl. Something jolted within Sarah.

An owl.

An owl.

She shook her head.

The fae kings smiled at her reassuringly, parting in a wave and stepping back, making a corridor of their bodies. With slow step, Sarah began to walk the way between them. And then there was a figure before her. Tall. Imposing. Kindly. His hair fell in auburn curls past his shoulders and his broad chest and thick muscles were brown from exposure. Sarah's gaze travelled his body from his bare feet, until she looked into his mismatched eyes. Black as night and blue as clearest day. He smiled at her. He motioned through the air in a way that made memory itch at Sarah's mind, a crystal appearing in his strong hands. Sarah leaned closer as he offered the gift to her. She stared, fixated, at the image of her own self, suspended in the orb.

Oh Isle of my childhood I'm dreaming of thee,

As the steamer leaves Oban and passes Tiree,

Soon I'll capture the magic that lingers for me,

When I'm back, once more upon, the Dark Island.

Sarah reached out her hand, brushing the clear glass. Eyes stared at her intently. She wrapped her fingers round the smooth sphere. It was pleasantly warm. It fitted her hand. It was comfortable. It brought with it deep peace. Deep happiness.

Pan did not let go of the crystal. His fingers interlocked with Sarah's as they both grasped the delicate glass. She raised her eyes to his. Slowly, still smiling kindly, he shook his head. As he did so the music began to change. The longing was still foremost, but now it spoke of an earth shattering sadness, running deep. Flowing through blood. Coursing through the body of the singer.

Sarah looked round her. The fae kings were silent, backing away. Beginning to fade. And yet the singing continued. Herne smiled sadly at her, and vanished from view. Raemon was again the last to fade from existence.

As the deer pants for the water,

So my soul yearns after you,

Sarah sought the source of the singing, turning her head, finding herself once again alone in the meadow.

You alone are my heart's desire,

And I long to worship you.

A bright light was glowing in the meadow, growing in intensity until Sarah could barely see. She strained her eyes. There was a figure. A figure in flowing robes, silhouetted in the brilliance. The single voice was clear and true.

You alone are my strength my shield,

To you alone may my spirit yield,

Jareth stepped from the light into the meadow waiting ground. Tears were coursing down his cheeks and he opened his arms wide, falling to his knees before her. Sarah ran to him and he reached up to wrap his arms round her waist, burying his face in the folds of the loose blouse she was again wearing. As the tears began to course down her own cheeks, Sarah ran her fingers through his silky bond hair.

You alone are my heart's desire,

And I long to worship you.

**So let me know what you think, we're not done yet! FY.A xxx**


	33. Chapter 33

**Hey guys! Sorry for the massive delay, this was caused by a family suicide...yeah, I know. Anyway, here is a short chapter to keep you going in the hope that you won't abandon me. Love you all. FY.A xxx**

Jareth rose, running his hands up Sarah's cloaked arms, relief and love filling his eyes as he kissed her softly on the lips. Sarah opened he mouth but Jareth brushed his finger across her lips, indicating that speech was not possible. Sarah realised the truth, that only song was possible, the song of angels. Jareth nodded into her eyes, and began to sing.

Trouble is her only friend and he's back again

Jareth grinned at her, silently mocking her for her ability to get into a scrape. He ran his hands down her smooth arms again, feeling, for all the peace and beauty of the meadow, the inherent lack of life.

Makes her body older than it really is

And she says it's high time she went away

No-one's got much to say in this town

Trouble is the only way is down, down, down.

He looked deep into her eyes, willing her to understand what he was trying to say.

As strong as you were

As tender you go

I'm watching you breathing for the last time

Jareth's voice cracked slightly and Sarah held him close, spellbound by the look in his eyes.

A song for your heart

But when it is quiet

I know what it means and I'll carry you home

Jareth stared deep into her eyes, willing her to understand the unspoken message – Whatever it takes.

I'll carry you home

If she had wings she would fly away

And another day god will give her some

Trouble is the only way is down, down down

As strong as you were

As tender you go

I'm watching you breathing for the last time

A song for your heart

But when it is quiet

I know what it means and I'll carry you home

I'll carry you home

And they're all born pretty in New York city tonight

And someone's little girl is taken from the world tonight

Under the stars and stripes

As strong as you were

As tender you go

I'm watching you breathing for the last time

A song for your heart

But when it is quiet

I know what it means and I'll carry you home

I'll carry you home

As strong as you were

As tender you go

I'm watching you breathing for the last time

A song for your heart

But when it is quiet

I know what it means and I'll carry you home

I'll carry you home

Jareth leant his forehead against Sarah's, clasping her hands between them. He shut his eyes tight. It was time to go home.


	34. Chapter 34

**Hey guys. Thanks for all the nice messages after last time. Here is the next chapter. I know stuff has been a little confusing, but it will all become clear. I nkow I keep saying this, but please hang in there...things are on the up. This is not the last chapter. Hope you enjoy. Love you all. FY.A xxx**

Pain lanced through Jareth's body as the light beat at his closed eyelids. He rolled over, burying his face into his arms to stop the brightness. The stone floor of his chamber pressed into his stomach, his hips, his knees. He shifted slightly, grating his body against the rough surface, rejoicing in the pain. The sound of panting filled his ears, and an irregular rhythm beat in his chest. Hyperventilation. But his brain felt clear. Still face down, he pressed his fingertips against his lips. He could feel no breath. Someone else shifted in the room, the sound of someone rolling over in bed whilst dreaming. A nightmare. Jareth screwed his eyes shut tight, reaching out to the other person. What was her name? Emeralds. Green. Love. Sarah. An image of nightmarish brilliance swam before his eyes. A sun filled meadow, green grass and a clear stream. A memory. Intangible. Out of reach. Devoid of life. Not her dream, but his.

And then he saw her. She wore a pale cloak trimmed with fur and her feet were bare. As she walked slowly away from him across the grass her luxurious brown hair swung in a heavy wave behind her, and he felt himself fading too. He tried to call, but found he couldn't. Instead, when he opened his mouth, it was song that crossed his lips.

Did I disappoint you or let you down?  
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?  
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,  
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.

She stopped and turned to him, and all at once he felt a power surge within him. This was his choice, his chance to play God. Jareth approached Sarah where she stood in the dreamlike meadow and reached out, taking from her the clear crystal which she carried, in which there floated a figure of herself. The crystal was warm as he pressed it to his lips, causing the mist in its depths to swirl in a passionate hue of deep red. Bllod red. Jareth smiled and slipped it into his pocket.

So I took what's mine by eternal right.  
Took your soul out into the night.  
It may be over but it won't stop there,  
I am here for you if you'd only care.

And suddenly Jareth fell apart. His knees hit the smooth surface of the meadow grass, to dry and warm to be of the Underground he so loved. His heart ached for his Underground, his Labyrinth. He looked up at the girl who stared wordlessly down at him. He was losing her. He could not save her. She was lost to him. He had taken her from her world to his. Had she experienced this pain? This loss of the world she loved? She had begged to follow him, but Jareth knew that as the magic had sweot through his body on top of the mound, he too had silently begged for a different world. T o let it be over. To let me find peace. But know that he was here...Sarah reached into the gown she wore and from its folds produced a second crystal. In its depths his own likeness could be distinguished.

You touched my heart you touched my soul.  
You changed my life and all my goals.  
And love is blind and that I knew when,  
My heart was blinded by you.  
I've kissed your lips and held your hand.  
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.  
I know you well, I know your smell.  
I've been addicted to you.

An addiction. Yes. Faraway, across the distance of the ages, a memory came to Jareth. Himself and Sarah, on the banks of the waterfall pool in his secret garden. Making love a lifetime ago. But as he tried to seize hold of the memory, it drifted out of reach, fading into the lost thoughts of the long dead. And he knew he had to let her go.

Goodbye my lover.  
Goodbye my friend.  
You have been the one.  
You have been the one for me.

But even in the midst of the sadness, the lifeless meadow of the dead, a voice began to reach him. Speaking into his mind. An old friend with no use for language.

"_Jareth. Come My King. Come back to me. Sire, think of what is real."_

Tiredness overcame Jareth as his head dropped. _"I have nothing left to give. I am too tired. It is over."_

"_No Jareth. You did enough. You have saved. This is just one more fight against temptation. Against the fear in your heart. The fear of what you have done."_

In the meadow Jareth looked into Sarah's eyes.

I am a dreamer and when I wake,  
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.  
And as you move on, remember me,  
Remember us and all we used to be

"_That's right Jareth. This is only a dream. This is how it would have been."_

And already it was fading. Sarah's dream ghost was frozen in time, pleading with him, tempting him to stay. Jareth steeled himself to that look, hardening his heart to the anguish of Sarah's likeness, remembering his meeting with Pan. He did not know where this temptation had been sent from, but he realised now that it was test. Choose to die, and they would die, or defy the temptation, and live the gift they'd been given.

As the dream dissolved in his own consciousness, he could still see the frozen face of Sarah, still mouthed the words as does a sleep talker, but now he was singing to life, to the Sarah he loved and would live with.

I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.  
I've watched you sleeping for a while.  
I'd be the father of your child.  
I'd spend a lifetime with you.  
I know your fears and you know mine.  
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,  
And I love you, I swear that's true.  
I cannot live without you.

Pain began to return to his numb body as the all encompassing truth of this statement hit him in full. Jareth rolled onto his back on the floor of his chamber as the tears leaked from his closed eyes, feeling the sorrow of what Sarah had given up for him.

Goodbye my lover.  
Goodbye my friend.  
You have been the one.  
You have been the one for me.

And I still hold your hand in mine.  
In mine when I'm asleep.  
And I will bare my soul in time,  
When I'm kneeling at your feet.

But that was not yet. When the time came he would beg for forgiveness. He would plead with her. He had made her choices for her, taken her life from her.

Goodbye my lover.  
Goodbye my friend.  
You have been the one.  
You have been the one for me.

As Jareth finally opened his eyes to the brightness of a new Labyrinthine day, she wrapped him in warmth and kissed away the salt from his cheeks with sunlight lips. He lay in the warmth, knowing he was numb and cold. Pushing away the sense of all reality he closed his eyes once more, and listened to the silence that should have been the pounding of his blood in his ears.

I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.  
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.  
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.  
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.

"_We are your heartbeat, we are your breath. Feel us, thanks us. You have given us life." _The Labyrinth's voice spoke like a cool caress against his soul. The pain began to fade as, over on the Sarah began to breathe the deeper breaths of untroubled sleep. The strange rhythm that filled her chest beat a tattoo in her ribcage, as the man who loved her more than life itself, silently slipped into bed beside her.

And the Labyrinth smiled, breathing Pan's deep sigh of contentment as his powerful magic wrapped a single life in safety.

**Any clearer yet? No? Oh well. Jareth is going to have to explain quite a lot of it so don't worry, explanations will follow, as will some interesting stuff...keep reading. xxx**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey. Sorry about the massivest of massive delays!! Here is the next chapter, and as promised, Jareth is doing some explaining. Prepared to be surprised. Hope you enjoy it, and as I keep saying, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER!!!**

**Please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot after the hard time I've had recently. Oh yeah, and sorry to everyone who reviewed/added me or the story to something and didn't get a response...things have been hectic as I'm sure you can understand.**

**Anyway...lots of love and on with the story. **

**FY.A xxx**

Sarah hurt. She ached deep inside. Deep to her bones. Deep as her soul. But she didn't open her eyes, couldn't bear to see the emptiness of the world around her. Without him. And yet, playing against the back of her closed eyelids was a scene of such horror. Jareth, silhouetted against the flame of evil, juddering out of control as the twisted face of Time leered. She could still feel his body in her arms as she had seized the sword hilt along with him. She remembered the strike of the thirteenth hour, the feel of Jareth's body sagging in her arms, the feel of her head exploding within and the resulting mess forcing itself from her nose. And then nothing. Nothing until this. The feel of consciousness returning so reluctantly because she knew that he could not have survived. He had been poisoned, beaten and broken, and had still taken on the might of Time. He could not have survived. Sarah rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, not even caring to consider how she had ended up back in his room in the castle, dressed in a clean night-dress. She screwed up her face, wishing the tears would come, wishing she could panic, react. Wishing she could just stop her heart from beating its steady rhythm within her chest.

"You don't wish that."

Sarah's shaking stilled immediately, the muscles in her shoulders tense as she held her breath. Slowly, she became aware of the heavy weight of a hand resting in the small of her back. Vaguely she thought it unfair that anyone should impersonate her beloved, why give her hope only to plunge her into the depths of despair?

"Go away," she tried to say but her voice reused to work, the lump in her throat blocking the words.

He seemed to understand anyway because when he next spoke his breath whispered over the shell of her ear.

"Princess."

The hand shifted to run up between her shoulder blades, fingers gently working the tension from them. But it was the feel of a salt tear splashing onto her neck that finally caused Sarah to turn over and open her eyes. Her vision was blurred, her pupils taking longer than they should to contract in response to the light, but slowly his face swam into view. His hair was in disarray, his clothes torn and grimy. Dried blood clung to his face and hands, the black a stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. And he was beautiful.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. Sarah shook her head wordlessly, reaching up to where the tears had caused rivulets of white on his cheeks.

"I'm here."

"I know."

"I love you."

"You're here."

Sarah was still staring up at him in wonder. Her hand traced his features, but he caught it before she could touch his lips. Instead, he leant down and kissed her softly on the lips, the caked blood rough against her skin. His hand traced the edges of her face before he pulled away and regarded her, eyes full of love.

"You're alive," he said, his voice filled with love and happiness.

Her hands reached up to trace the familiar lines of his chest. And then suddenly she stilled, flattening her palm against him. She looked slowly up at him, meeting his calm gaze.

"Jareth..."

"Yes," he interrupted.

"Jareth you've got no heartbeat."

"No."

"How...how..."

He placed a finger against her lips.

"Shut your eyes. Open your mind. Think of me; feel me in your mind. Find that connection." Jareth rested his forehead against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair. "_Let me explain,_" he said into her mind.

"Time was banished, back to the Aboveground. I couldn't have done it without your help." Jareth shut his eyes, feeling again the shaking sword, his sweat damp fingers sliding on the hilt, his strength all but gone. And then the feeling of Sarah's arms round him, supporting him, gripping the hilt with him, sending him her strength. "But you sent me too much Sarah, you couldn't control the flow. You gave me everything and kept nothing for yourself. So when the magic's flow stopped, and it backed up to its source, the force of it was too much." Jareth's breath...he was breathing?...began to shake as he remembered the blood pouring from Sarah's nose, the blankness from her eyes.

"I...I was dead?" Jareth nodded, eyes still closed, unable to bear the horror in Sarah's voice. "Then...then how..."

"Pan came." Jareth opened his eyes and looked straight into her green ones. "He showed me the ancient power, the magic with which he created the Labyrinth. He showed me I could save you. But it came at a cost."

"What cost?" Sarah's voice was quiet, full of fear.

"Life always costs. Remember something I told you, the last time you were here. When you were trying to reach Toby. I don't even think you were listening...but I said 'I can't live within you'. I lied. We are linked. That is why you can now hear me in your head. The Labyrinth is alive, she talks in my head. We are old friends. And sometimes, in my secret garden when things are peaceful, you can feel her life. An underlying heartbeat, the wind breathing her breath. And yet, when I pressed my hand against Pan's chest there was nothing, no heartbeat, no rise or fall of breath. And yet he did breathe and his heartbeat was strong. His heartbeat, his breath are the Labyrinth's. And as long as she endures, so will he. His magic allows him to pass between worlds, for he is very powerful, but they share a life. And so it is for us. My heart beat is yours, my true breath is yours. But when you shut your eyes and feel, they can be felt to course within us both. And as long as you safeguard them for me, we can both endure together."

Jareth did not speak of the meadow. Sarah seemed not to remember. It was not his place to remind her of something best left unknown. Sarah's eyes had filled with tears. Her hand crept to her chest pressing against the steady rhythm that beat there. Her eyes were full of love as she brought them back to his. Slowly, she leant towards him, kissing the corner of his mouth, trying to convey her gratefulness. She tried to speak but her voice failed her and she shook her head in frustration.

"You want to know why," Jareth stated and Sarah nodded. "The prophecy."

"Raemon mentioned that, before he...before he died. Jareth..." Sarah began as a sudden realisation hit her. "I...I saw him Jareth. In a meadow or something. Must have been hallucinating. But he was kind. He helped me. Jareth, I want you to forgive him, because I already have."

Jareth stared down at the amazing woman before him. She seemed remarkably calm, composed.

"There is just one thing. Why didn't you tell me of this...prophecy?"

"Because I needed it to be your choice. I had to know it was what you wanted. To be here, with me."

Sarah kissed him gently. "tell me the prophecy," she said.

As Jareth recited, Sarah found herself sinking into warmth as the rhythm of the words flowed through her. But she did not understand. It took her a few minutes to realise that Jareth had finished speaking. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her.

"You need to sleep."

"I don't understand what it means."

"I know."

"Then explain."

Jareth looked into her eyes, trying to gage the depths of her tiredness, before finally nodding his head. He began to recite again.

As Creation shakes each twelfth hour

Many leaves shall fall

Turning yellow, dry and broken

Time shall claim them all.

"It's to do with Time's designated dominion. He could rule anywhere were the clock strikes twelve, hence he carries a twelve hour clock. The symbol of his dominance. Creation is a person, I think you would call him God where you come from, and we call him Creation. The leaves are the people that grow on his tree of life, and Time feeds off them."

But in the deep, Creation's servant,

Loving, full of care,

Gives his blood, his mind, his heartbeat,

His breath becomes the air.

"Creation's servant is Pan, and the prophecy tells how he loved the Underground so much that he created the Labyrinth, giving it life both so that he could remain there forever and so that the creatures would have a loving place to live. This was the birth of the ancient magic. Living within a sensitive and highly intelligent life-form derived from one who truly loved...is it not paradise?" Jareth was silent for a few moments, musing.

When Time's dominion seems to crumble,

Thirteen stops the circle round

Then Creation's servant sleeping

'neath the smooth and grassy mound.

"Pan sought to banish Time from the Labyrinth he had created, so that his people there, the fae, could live forever. He did this by adding a thirteenth hour to the clock, so that it no longer matched the one carried by Time. This achieved, and Time in hiding, he ringed the graveyard in the old magic and retreated into the earth he loved so much to sleep for eternity. In essence, he was literally sleeping with the one he loved." Jareth grinned briefly at Sarah, and she smiled in acknowledgement of his joke.

But twelve will chime afore thirteen,

So Time can breach that wall,

Bringing heartache, sorrow, bloodshed.

His Labyrinth shall call.

"But Time was crafty and longed to feast upon the immortal lives of the fae. Imagine, an immortal time-span, a delicacy to one who lives off time-related life-force. So he devised a plan with which to breach the barrier Pan had created, utilising the fact that a clock with thirteen numbers must still strike twelve. Although twelve was no longer the number of power, he found a way to harness its magic anyway. He brought the war, and the Labyrinth began to scream in pain as his telepathic minions began to feed of her loving consciousness."

Pan lies quiet, Herne's antlers broken

Deep, Creation cannot see

Injustice' spears when raised, rich stained,

Black with Royal blood shall be.

"Pan was asleep and Herne's physical body had long since passed back into the earth so there was no-one to heed the cry of the Labyrinth. Herne, by the way, was the power that was appointed to look after the animals placed in the Labyrinth. He is fae, although his affinity with creatures made him the first to achieve transformation. He could turn into a stag, but spent so much time living as one that he never truly turned back; hence he still carries the antlers which grow and shed on his brow. He too must have been very powerful, for his reach was far and his strength as a fauna formidable. But I digress.

"Creation could not see what was happening in the depths of the Underground, right on the peripheries of a Creator's vision. The spiders ran wild, stirring the Goblins into action, drawing them into rebellion against the fae." Jareth looked away, his eyes filling with tears as the memories overtook him.

"They killed your father." Sarah reached out, covering Jareth's hand with her own, wondering how she knew this as Jareth nodded his head. "I saw him Jareth, in the meadow with Raemon. He was with the fae Jareth. Peaceful."

Jareth nodded again, a lump in his throat. Sarah screwed up her face, trying to remember more of the meadow...why had she been there?

But Jareth drew a breath, a breath she now knew was a charade, for she held his true life force, and continued.

Then Creation's servant's eyes,

One of night and one of day,

In a King will now be opened,

Come the monstrous Time to slay.

"The most striking thing about Pan, despite his height and strength, are his..."

"His eyes," Sarah interrupted. She screwed up her own, trying to hold the dim picture in her mind. "One's black and one's blue..." Sarah opened her eyes to look up at Jareth, who was staring at her with a strange expression on his face. "...like yours, but more so."

Jareth nodded his head. "By the time of my birth, Raemon had already been chosen to succeed as King, as fae royal succession is not the same as it is from your world. But then I was born and they saw my eyes and thought of the prophecy. That was why Raemon resented me."

Sarah nodded back. "He told me. He also said you set your crib on fire and turned your bath water to ice, is that true?" She grinned up at him.

"Apparently so," Jareth said serenely. "I did not have control of my power in the early stages, vast as it was."

"Not the only part of you that's bigger than you'd expect," Sarah retorted cheekily and the innuendo could be felt to lift some of the tension. Jareth grinned back and kissed her on the nose.

His expression sobered again. "I grew up adored, pampered, worshipped almost. But all my youth I carried the weight of the forthcoming battle. 'Come the monstrous Time to slay'." His voice sounded bitter. "And then they killed my father, and in that grief, that regret, that...utter inadequacy, I knew it was nearly time. And I knew I would fail."

Once the Light will banish horror,

Striking down encroaching sleep

But Light himself will be defeated,

This conquering an honour, keep.

"The Light?" Sarah asked.

"Me," Jareth said briefly. "Jareth means 'Coming of Light' in the ancient fae goblin. But as I knew, I couldn't defeat the hoards of Time. And while my people celebrated, as they settled and loved and grew old, I knew he would come again."

"But you weren't defeated by Time; you banished him so he hardly won."

"The defeat wasn't by Time, my dear, it was by you."

Emeralds blaze, set face of courage,

Desperation in her stride,

Creation's servant's riddle broken,

She shall be the Light One's bride.

"Your fight to win Toby from me. I answered your call to take your brother because I had seen you in the park and you enchanted me. I watched you. I grew to love you. And so when you asked a direct favour of me, how could I refuse? But you did not want me to be loving. You wished to be terrified. I obliged, it suited my mood for Raemon had been annoying me. And I invited you to my Labyrinth to entertain me until I felt better. In retrospect, it is probably best that you did not ask me to love you in those emotion-filled thirteen hours. But you ran the Labyrinth and won."

Jareth ran his hand down Sarah's cheek. "Your eyes, emeralds. Your desperate run through my Labyrinth, your defeat of Pan's mazes and puzzles that are the protection of his Labyrinth and people, for I merely maintain and update, who am I to challenge Pan's judgement? How could you not be the one spoken of? But it said bride and, cruel as I am, that was not something I wished to force from you."

Time will stop and love will blossom,

The tree of fruit begin to grow,

Before the clock that striketh twelve,

Shameful, faceless, dare to show.

"We were destined to fall in love, to become so caught up with each other that nothing else mattered. I took my eye form my Kingdom Sarah, that's why this is all my fault. Despite what I knew, I couldn't stop it."

Sarah reached out to him and laid her hand on his arm. "So the prophecy speaks of the return of Time?" Jareth nodded slowly. "He is 'the clock that striketh twelve'?"

"Yes Sarah, he is."

"What about 'the tree of fruit'? That doesn't seem to make much sense."

Jareth leaned over, flattening his hand over Sarah's abdomen as he leant down to kiss her. Sarah linked her fingers through his, feeling for the first time that her belly was no longer flat, but that a small swelling rose under her fingers, barely noticeable, easily overlooked.

"Oh..." she gasped. "You...knew?"

Jareth nodded his head. "But only after all that happened. Only since I've been turning the prophecy over in my head as I waited for you to awaken. I could not think of another explanation... I had always assumed it would have something to do with the coming of spring...but now..." he shook his head. "Sarah, if I may ask, when was your last menstrual cycle?"

Sarah felt herself blushing furiously, found she couldn't meet his eye as she stammered her reply. "I...um...I was never very regular...you know...Aboveground. Stress and all that. Sometimes I could skip completely."

"Precious..." Jareth murmured as he brought his lips against Sarah's, pushing her back on the bed gently and cradling her in his arms. "You're safe no. Here with me. Forever and ever. Remember?"

Sarah nodded against his neck, biting her lip against the tide of emotion.

"Sarah...do you miss it? The Aboveground. Because this experience taught me that I love the Underground, my Labyrinth. I can't be without it, not while I live and..."

"Say it Jareth."

"...not while I live and breathe."

Sarah wrapped her arms round his ribcage, crushing his body down onto hers, pulling him so close that she felt they could merge.

"Never leave me," she whispered, "never send me back."

Jareth stilled at her words, remembering his conversation with Pan on top of the mound - _"Would you give her up to let her live? Return her to her old life" _– he remembered his nod. Slowly he disentangled himself from Sarah's embrace.

"I'm filthy," he muttered, closing his eyes. As he drew on his power, Sarah felt a small spark of electricity flicker within her. When she looked back at him the blood and dirt was gone, his hair was clean and he wore a pair of loose fitting, black silk breeches that hung low form his waist. He smelled clean, of magic and fresh grass. Sarah's eyes were drawn to the silver scar that coiled on his bicep, the mark of the arrow. Gently she traced it with her finger tips. Distracted for the moment from her previous question she looked up at him.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

Jareth nodded his head. "But not there, here," he said, fisting his hand against his chest. "Iron aches, long after it is gone. I can still feel it."

Sarah pushed herself up from the bed, placing her lips against the silver imperfection. She drew him back to lie down on the bed once more.

"Carry on with the prophecy," she whispered, by way of distraction.

Stealing thoughts to finance evil,

Ceaseless from the dark they strive,

Sleepers' peace is rent asunder,

Of two but one is left alive

"They came as a whisper. A whisper in my mind. Feeding off the people I am here to protect. Ever wondered about that irrational fear of little house spiders?" Sarah looked at him. "They feed off your thoughts. That's how they survive. Humans have lost their telepathic ability to the spiders, and it hurt. So now, generations later, you're still scared. And they don't give up. They're not really spiders, by the way, but the creatures Time has captured. The spider is just a convenient form."

Sarah opened her mouth to interject, but Jareth had already continued.

"The sleepers. The lost fae. The dwell in another world now, they belong to the stars. They are the guiding lights in a meadow of the uncertain."

"I met them."

"I know." Jareth stared deep into Sarah's eyes, trying to work out what she was thinking. "They sleep beneath the mounds in the graveyard – the meadow of the dead. The spiders, they were feeding off the residual thoughts still imperceptibly leaking from their bodies, you saw them swarm Raemon I think?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Well he was fresh. That's why I started the fire. I didn't want them to consume him. He was my cousin after all."

"And the last line?"

"Yes. You died. I didn't, 'of two but one is left alive'. I'm sorry."

Again Sarah shook her head. "Don't be," she murmured, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "You brought be back."

Desperation follows battle,

Salt water kisses deep of brave,

'til Creation's servant wakens,

Bringing hope, to serve, to save.

"I lay down beside you Sarah, I couldn't leave you," tears were coursing freely down Jareth's cheeks, remembering the desolation, the loss, the terror. "I didn't want to live. I cried, I think, though I don't remember, because it was my tears that slipped through the soil and woke Pan. He came with hope."

Strong sword in hand to wield and gentle,

Death aligned so close to life,

Black will flow to bloodless chalice,

An end to anger, fear and strife.

Loss and pain so closely allied,

Light would gift her up Above,

Giving up his breath, his heartbeat,

To live within the one he loves.

"These tow verses come together. Pan's sword had been missing from the tomb, that's how the spiders got in. But you brought it back."

"Raemon gave it to me. In the meadow the first time. Before I woke up under the statue."

"You were in the meadow before. By the name of all things good, Sarah my love I am truly sorry. Had I known, I would never have left you."

"They gave me the sword, and I knew I had to take it to you. So I screamed to the Labyrinth and the statue became Elixsyure and we came to find you."

"Sarah, my love you are amazing. Pan had regained his sword so he once more took on the mantle of the great magic to use for peace. And Sarah, he asked me a question. He asked me whether I would send you back Aboveground with no memory of me if it meant you could live. I said I would, though it tore me apart. So he cut me and I gave you my life, in return for a forever with you. Do you understand?"

"No. I don't. I can't live without you Jareth."

"Listen to the next verse."

Death for both gives life eternal,

From ancient magic to invoke,

Linked forever, one becoming,

Turning on harsh words once spoke.

"Wait Jareth, the meadow. I have this weird memory of a meadow. That was death wasn't it?"

"More like a waiting area, a reception."

"But I saw you there. You said you didn't die." Sarah looked up at him, accusation in her eyes.

"I had to come and get you. You had nearly accepted, I was only just in time. But that was what I was meaning earlier...that we are linked. We truly can't live without each other now, as we share a life. We will die together Sarah, if either one of us should take that step. Are you alright?"

Sarah was gripping his shoulders tight, her fingernails digging into his skin as she was gripped by strong emotion. "You can never leave me alone?" Jareth kissed her gently in confirmation. "What harsh words?"

"Me again. 'I can't live within you' – the statement I uttered in anger. You proved them wrong by accepting life."

Sarah nodded up at him as she settled back on the pillow, her fingers linked through hers. Her eyes were glazed with tiredness and as Jareth looked, he could almost read the emotion that walked through her mind, processing all she had learned. Would she accept it? Would she hate him for not telling her, not giving her true choice? He settled himself beside her and her hand snaked to rest in the centre of his chest.

"I can still feel it beating," she muttered.

Jareth fought the emotion within him. To distract himself, he began to recite the last verse, the epiphany of hope.

When truth hurts like the hell it is,

So hope rise in the strength of line,

Giving lovers one forever,

In which to crush the world of Time.

The glanced over at Sarah's sleeping face, wiped smooth as she lost herself to the dream world. He lifted one hand, pillowing his head on his arm as he thought of the prophecy. The future. Their future. Hope in his children and their children, his line stretching away into the mists of the yet to come, while he Sarah defied Time, sharing eternity together as one.


	36. Chapter 36

**Hey. Once again, sorry about the delay...exams and all that. So here is the next chapter as we reach the conclusion, but again, still not finished!**

**Gothic: Yes I have read the Firebringer, when I was about eight. Herne does appear in that too, but he is an ancient mythical creature from old folklore too, and it is this interpretation that my Herne is based on.**

**Please read and review!**

**Lots of love. FY.A xxx**

When Sarah awoke the light was streaming through the wide chamber window, casting back the shadows and heating patches of warmth on the stone floor. Sarah yawned and stretched, the twisted sheet tangling round her legs as she rolled over. She opened her eyes and was for some reason not surprised to see Jareth's side of the bed vacant. Turning onto her stomach she buried her face into his pillow, inhaling the spicy scent of magic that was so uniquely him. Her fingers stroked gently against the sheet, feeling it warm where the sun lay across it. Languidly she swung her legs over the side of the bed, combing her fingers through her hair as she sat up.

Remembering something Sarah shut her eyes and gathered her thoughts. "_Jareth?_" she called.

There was a long pause in which she thought he couldn't have heard and then...

"_Sarah! You're awake."_

"_Yes."_

"_I'm coming back."_

For the briefest of seconds Sarah had the impression that she was soaring, thousands of feet above the surface of the world, staring down at the Labyrinth. The height made her head spin and her eyes opened. And it was gone. Blinking, she collected her thoughts. As she stood her long night-dress fell to its full length, hugging her figure as she crossed to the mirror. Sarah stared at her face intently for a few moments. Her dark green eyes stared intently back. Emeralds, the prophesy had said. She took a step back and turned sideways, running wondering hands over the slight swell of her belly. Barely noticeable. And shouldn't she being feeling sick? That's what they said wasn't it? Morning sickness? Still staring herself in the eye in the mirror, Sarah lifted the night-dress, breaking contact only for a second as she lifted it over her head. Coldly, she assessed what she saw. A gust of wind blew from outside, causing goose bumps to rise on her naked skin as the ivy rattled against the window ledge. Sarah stared harder, seeing the way skin roughened, hating the paleness of her body. And there, shiny silver in the centre of her chest was the silver outline of Jareth's medallion. She shivered and reached for her nightgown. Before she could catch hold of it strong arms wrapped round her from behind, the fingers of one hand spreading over her stomach, the other snaking up to her chest, covering the scar as Jareth's image appeared in the mirror behind her.

"Don't," he whispered into her ear as his eyes sought hers in the glass.

"Don't what?" she whispered back as, unbidden, her own hands came up to cover his.

"Hide it away."

"The scar?"

"You're beautiful body."

And suddenly, as Jareth's lips found the crook of her neck an image flashed across her mind. Not a scene such as those sent by Raemon, but more of an idea, an abstract thought, unanalysed and barely complete. Herself. Through Jareth's eyes. The smooth curve of her hip, the soft line of her breast, the sheen on her hair, the invitation on her lips. And then the image was gone but her mind was still reeling. She watched in the mirror as Jareth's hands ran lightly down her body, fingers travelling to her hips as he pulled her lightly back against him, the soft leather of his breaches and waistcoat warm on her back. Sarah felt the delicate skin of her lower stomach flutter as Jareth's gloved finger barely traced over it as he raised his hands once more, cupping the weight of her breasts in his fingers.

"Never," he whispered.

It was only when he spoke that she realised she had shut her eyes, and she opened them to find him staring at her intently. His mismatched gaze was so penetrating that she knew he could see right to her soul, and she opened it to him, inviting him in.

"Never," he whispered again as his lips sought her shoulder, eyes never leaving hers. "Never doubt yourself Precious. Never."

And he drew away from her, his hand seeking hers as she turned, breaking eye contact in the mirror to find the true source in life. His fingers, now gloveless, interlocked with hers as he quietly sat on the edge of the bed, drawing her close to stand between his knees. He looked up at her, holding her eyes for a few moments before purposefully lowering his gaze to sweep down the length of her body. Sarah felt the blush rise in her cheeks.

"You're beautiful," murmured Jareth as he leant closer to kiss the skin between her breasts. "And you're mine," he said as he drew back, fingers tracing the imprint of his medallion, "forever."

Sarah could feel the tears start to prick at her eyes with the intensity of his expression. She took a step forward so that her knees touched the edge of the bed and her thighs came into contact with his. She rested her hands on his shoulders as his hands came to rest on her waist.

"I love you," she whispered as she leant down to kiss him.

Jareth shut his eyes and let his hands slide down to cup the swell of her buttocks. He felt Sarah's tongue trace the seam of his lips but refused to open his mouth. Instead, e gripped her buttocks harder, digging in his nails as he pulled her towards him, slowly overbalancing him so that she fell forwards onto the bed as he shifted out of her way. He chuckled darkly, placing a hand heavily on her back to prevent her rolling over. He lowered his lips to her and kissed the smooth skin between her shoulder blades.

"I think Sarah," he said silkily, the old edge of danger that she had come to love lacing its way through his accent, "that it is time you paid your debt."

He felt her swallow and lifted his hand slightly, allowing her to shift against the mattress to find a more comfortable position with her now swollen clit.

"D...debt?" she stammered, the desire evident in her voice.

Jareth leant over her, taking old of her wrists and pulling them up over her head. He pressed his chest against her back as he lowered his lips to her ear.

"I said you would pay. You agreed." He sank his teeth into the tender skin of her earlobe and heard her gasp in response. "An iron tipped arrow his painful to any fae, but to one as strong as me..."

He released her wrists but Sarah found herself unable to lower her hands. Se writhed slightly, causing her swollen clit to rub against a crease in the sheet, making her gasp. She felt Jareth's hot breath on the back of her neck as he released it in a silent chuckle. His hand ran down from the small of her back, his eyes narrow and cruel as they tracked its progress over the swell of her buttocks. He slipped his fingers between her thighs, gently tugging her legs apart and she found herself yet again helpless to resist him. Her whole body juddered as he pressed his finger against her swollen nub, the tingle of raw magic emanating from his ungloved hands threatening to send her over the edge. Jareth's tongue traced the shell of her ear as he leant forward again.

"You will not come," he commanded. He was satisfied to hear Sarah's whimper.

Again he pressed his finger to Sarah's clit before pinching it between thumb and forefinger, twisting almost to the point of pain, but not quite. Sarah struggled to keep her breathing even, to ignore his assault on her body in order that she comply with his commands but she could not contain the whimper that escaped her as he withdrew his hand completely.

Jareth brought his hand down across her buttocks with a sharp smack, leaving a red welt on the pale skin. Carefully, he leant down and drew his tongue across the mark, soothing, before raising his hand and smacking it down again. Tenderly he rubbed the redness, the coolness of his palm sending the pleasure pain to pool between Sarah's legs. Again she jolted as his fingers wandered, straying down between the cheeks and over the tight, puckered entrance, on down to her damp opening.

"My, Sarah. Feeling a little flustered?" Jareth teased in her ear as he slipped a finger into her opening, adding a second and a third, twisting them within her and pressing into her clit with the pad of his thumb. Sarah writhed beneath him, biting her teeth down into her lip as she fought against the coiling in the pit of her stomach. "Feeling rather..."Jareth twisted his fingers again, "...tense..." he pressed hard against her clit causing her to moan, "...are you?"

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, trailing juices back up to her puckered entrance, spreading them. As his fingers circled he leant down, grazing his teeth against the alabaster expanse of her shoulder, nipping and sucking before licking the resulting welt. Sarah groaned again, writhing against the force that prevented her from moving, from giving as good as she got, from seeing what he was doing. She felt him shift away slightly, when he returned she could feel his bare skin pressing against hers as again she felt his breath on her ear.

"This pleasure is mine," he said possessively as he shifted to cover her body with his own.

For a moment, as his chest pressed against her back, she felt the stillness of his chest and a wave of sadness and love threatened to engulf her, and then she was snapped back to the present as his large erection pressed between her cheeks.

"All mine," he said again and he pressed himself into her.

He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't rough either as Sarah felt herself struggling to expand to accommodate his incredible size. He pressed in relentlessly, possessively as though trying to prove his complete dominance, a dominance that Sarah loved and accepted was his right. And it felt amazing. As he began to thrust Sarah could hear the small gasps of breath that escaped his lips and she shifted slightly so that each of his thrusts pushed her against the crease in the sheet, stimulating, building the pressure.

Jareth slipped his hand beneath her, fingers probing and eliciting small gasps form Sarah as she fought the incredible pressure he was building within her. And then, just as she thought she could bear it no more, he withdrew completely and Sarah found herself able to roll over. His hair hung in his eyes, the pupils of which were dilated with passion as he found her gaze.

"Together," he managed to say and his voice sounded strangled.

Sarah nodded and wrapped her arms round him, her gasp lost in his mouth as he thrust into her soaking entrance. His rhythm was hard and erratic as they were both so near, but Sarah met him thrust for thrust as he buried himself deeper and deeper within her. And then she was coming and the world was shattering and Jareth's teeth broke the skin on her shoulder as his own orgasm ripped through him before he stilled, still deep within her, holding himself up on his arms as he stared down into her sex filled face. As the shuddering ceased Sarah fought to bring her eyes to meet his gaze.

"We'll call her Phoenix," Jareth said.

Carefully he withdrew and rolled to the side, propping himself up on his elbow to look down into Sarah's face.

"What?" she muttered, her brain still having problems following a coherent thought process.

Jareth chuckled and leant down, kissing her on the mouth.

"Our daughter," he elaborated, "rising from the ashes, a symbol of hope and love."

"Daughter?"

Jareth nodded.

"How do you know?"

"I just know." He leant down and kissed her again, opening his mouth and delving his tongue down to duel with hers before pulling back to smile down at her. "And doesn't it just fill you with excitement?"

He rose, swinging his legs over the side of the bed with all the smooth energy the characterised his persona. He smiled wolfishly at Sarah as he tugged his green robe round his shoulders and stalked to the bathroom door, for all the world like he had just got out of bed, instead of just having finished a round of hard and passionate lovemaking. A few seconds later Sarah heard the sound of running bath water and the sweet scent of peach and lavender stole into the bed chamber. Sarah smiled to herself as she spread her fingers wide over her belly, still savouring the sweet tang of Jareth's kiss on her lips.

"Phoenix," she whispered, and smiled again.


	37. Chapter 37

**Hey everyone! I had originally thought that this would be the second last chapter, but the rabbits that live in my head and work the controls have decided otherwise, devising a follow on that will just continue form this story...so we're not as near the end as I originally thought. I hope you will all keep reading!**

**For those of you who read author's notes...here's a tip – this chapter takes place about two years after the last one as I didn't think you needed a day by day account of how they got here, you can sort of pick it up. Now we can watch and laugh as those who don't read author's notes get confused. Lol. **

**Please keep reading and reviewing!**

**Lots of love**

**FY.A xxx**

Sarah writhed and flailed, crying out as her hands clawed at the bed sheets, sweat pouring off her body. Beside her, Jareth's mismatched eyes snapped open and he jerked to avoid a jabbing knee that had come dangerously close to his groin. Sarah rolled over, her body convulsing as she turned her back to Jareth, jerking as he laid a gentle hand on her shuddering shoulder.

"Sarah," he soothed, "Precious it is but a nightmare. _Sarah_," he tried speaking into her mind.

Sarah's knees pulled up to her chest, as close as her distended belly would allow, her arms folding in on herself like a dying spider. No, thought Jareth, never like a spider. Carefully he shifted his weight until his chest pressed against the curve of her back and he was able to lean down to kiss the exposed side of her neck. He stroked his hand up and down her arm as he continued to whisper soothing nothings into her, reaching round to wipe the tears from her face as her sobbing finally abated, turning into the dry snuffs of someone in the process of waking. Her hand crept up to weave fingers through his, pulling his arm round her shoulders so that she could fiddle with his fingers, staring at them rather than having to make eye contact with her husband. Jareth placed a soft, open mouthed kiss against Sarah's shoulder, hugging her tighter and blowing cool air over her cheek.

"My love?" he queried and heard her gulp as she attempted to force a laugh.

"Your sons are boisterous tonight Jareth." She attempted a wobbly smile, still facing away from Jareth and refusing to look up at him.

Tenderly Jareth laid his hand over the large swollen mass of Sarah's belly spreading his fingers wide and pressing gently. With his other hand he tugged lightly on Sarah's shoulder, rolling her onto her back so that she stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh for the ease of their sister," Sarah wished out loud.

"Hush," Jareth answered. "They are strong and you would not want otherwise."

Beneath his hand he felt a wriggle. Something stirring inside her. A new life. Turning onto his stomach and lying sideways across the bed, he placed both hands onto Sarah's belly, kissing the point between his thumbs. He pressed down slightly and another force met him, pushing back against him. Carefully he began to massage Sarah's belly, soothing the tenderness with the magic in his fingertips. Laying his cheek against the soft skin, softly he began to sing:

Lullaby, twilight is spreading  
Silver wings over the sky;  
Fairy elves are softly treading,  
Folding buds as they pass by.  
Lullaby, whisper and sigh,  
Lullaby, lullaby.

The kicks were becoming softer as Jareth shut his eyes and began again, his gentle voice soothing as Sarah too began to relax. Gently he raised his head and sought Sarah's eyes as she smiled down at him from where she lay propped against the pillows.

"They love their father already. What will I do when they're born if I can't control them now?" she queried, but her eyes sparkled in excitement.

Jareth moved up and kissed her softly on the lips.

"You will rest, and love and watch them grow," he told her reassuringly.

"And Phoenix...?"

"Is sleeping, just as she was when you checked before you retired."

Sarah nodded her head, knowing that he was right. He was always right about Phoenix, just as he had known she would be a girl he knew when she was about to cry, knew when something was wrong and was always there, materialising from wherever he had been to scoop her up into his arms, laughing as her screams of "Daddy!" bounced round the stone walls. Sarah smiled and looked at Jareth, who still had one hand resting over his twin sons.

"You want me to check her don't you?" he asked amused but was already swinging out of bed and onto his feet before she had had time to nod.

He stretched, feline, silhouetted in the eerie moonlight that filled the bed chamber, his naked torso bathed silver and his black silk sleep pants, that he had become accustomed to wearing lest Phoenix wander into their chamber at night, hanging low off his hips. Sarah watched the muscles ripple as he strode to the door, pausing with his hand on the door handle. Without turning round he spoke.

"By Creation, Precious but your cruel eyes do burn my skin."

He flexed his muscles so that his sleep pants slipped slightly lower, revealing the start of a smooth curve at the base of his spine. Sarah could not help but giggle slightly. Jareth tugged the door open and stepped through, sticking his head back round the door to grin wolfishly at her.

"I'll be back to deal with you later!" he promised.

The corridor was dark, lit only by the moonlight that penetrated through the narrow slit window at the far end. Reaching the next door from his own Jareth paused, turning the handle silently and pushing the door wide. He stood on the threshold, savouring the sleepy scent of his two year old daughter, eyes full of love.

Her golden hair was spread on the pillow, her face turned slightly toward him so that the bright moonlight fell on the round curve of her cheek. The fingers of one tiny hand could just be seen at the edge of the sheet where she gripped it while the other hand was fisted next to her head on the pillow, the tip of a soft white feather just visible between her fingers. Silently Jareth crossed the room and knelt down beside the bed, smoothing the covers where they had become twisted as she had rolled over. Phoenix snuffled and the hand that had gripped the sheet lifted to rub at her eyes and her lips parted slightly in a long sigh. Her ice blue eyes blinked open and she looked sleepily up at her father.

"Daddy?" she said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

"Hush baby. Go back to sleep," whispered Jareth.

Phoenix rolled over, pushing her tiny hand into Jareth's as she shut her eyes again. Still grasping one of his fingers tightly in her fist she lifted her hand, pushing her thumb into her mouth. Jareth raised his free hand and smoothed her hair from her face, humming the tune to her lullaby softly, barely whispering the words.

When the sun goes down,  
And the moon comes up,  
And the stars twinkle in the skies,  
Then, my little one,  
It's time for bed  
And time to close your eyes;  
For the fairies wait  
Till you're fast asleep  
To bring sweet dreams to you,  
And the moon and stars  
Through the windows peep  
To see what the fairies will do.

Phoenix' breathing deepened into sleep and her fingers relaxed their hold on Jareth's finger. Tenderly he leant down and kissed her on the forehead before rising to his feet and treading softly back out of the room, shutting the door noiselessly behind him as he went. Softly, in case Sarah had once more dropped off, he returned to his own chamber.

Sarah was lying on her side, her eyes closed, her breathing deep and even. Jareth concentrated for a moment before smiling slyly, knowing that she was merely faking this sleep. Well, two could play at that game. Smoothly he slid back into bed and settled the covers at his waist, turning his back to her and steadying his breathing. After a few minutes he felt Sarah shift slightly, knowing she had moved so that she could see his face. He fought the urge to grin. Apparently satisfied that he was asleep, Sarah laid her hand lightly on his shoulder, gently rolling him onto his back. Jareth let himself flop down, still feigning sleep. Sarah's hand crept over his chest covering the point that was the absence of his heart beat. She pressed her hand against him and he felt her shift, and knew that she was laying a hand over her own steady rhythm. A warm tear dropped onto his chest. Still Jareth fought the urge to react. The knowledge that the events of two years ago still hurt her cut him deeply, but he knew she needed these moments to herself, knew that her mood would soon change.

He was right. It was not long before Sarah laid her head gently onto his chest, her hand creeping down to rest on his defined abdominal muscles. Jareth tried not to tense them under her touch, tried to continue feigning sleep but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to react, her proximity and the smooth stroking of her fingers starting to affect his body. Her hand slipped lower, ducking under the waistband of his bottoms to rest lightly on the sensitive skin between the points of his hips. Jareth could not help himself and sucked in a breath, trying to dampen the gasp as he fought to return his breathing to the deep steadiness of sleep. Sarah's hand moved lower, brushing against his stirring manhood.

Jareth gave in, catching hold of her wrist and pulling her hand away. She did not move her head, but he could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, "You are supposed to be asleep."

Jareth let his hand fall to the side of her face, smoothing the hair away from her cheek.

"And you are eight and a half months pregnant with twins," he replied, running his hand down the column of her neck.

"I know Jareth...it's just...it's been so long..." she trailed off and Jareth could feel the heat rising from her cheeks. "Don't you find it difficult? I mean...what do you do to relieve the tension I know you must feel."

Jareth smiled at her even though she couldn't see his face.

"I can control myself," he answered smoothly. He paused and then added as an afterthought, "Although my reaction to your touch does seem to be quite strong..."

Sarah shifted her head on his chest and he gasped as he felt her tongue swirl round his nipple. He felt himself becoming hard.

"Control yourself, can you?" Sarah asked, the amusement in her voice evident as she looked down across his stomach to where his arousal was becoming more and more apparent beneath the black silk.

"Well," Jareth countered, "when the temptation is so strong accidents are bound to happen."

He stopped speaking as Sarah's hand once more ran down across his stomach and under his waistband. She stroked him once, gently, with one finger and he twitched, his whole body becoming rigid.

"I think it's been harder for you than you're letting on," Sarah said and Jareth gritted his teeth as Sarah's hand closed round him as much as possible. She began to move, up and down, squeezing gently, her head still resting against his chest. Jareth struggled to breathe, fought to resist the urge to thrust into her hand as the frustration of Sarah's pregnancy and the resulting sporadic and short sexual encounters threatened to engulf him. Suddenly he grasped Sarah's wrist again, jerking her hand away.

"No," he managed to gasp, "Sarah you must stop or the God's help me I will have you, pregnant or no."

Sarah kissed the centre of his chest, pulling her hand from his grasp and stroking the underside of his throbbing cock through the silk, causing him to hiss through his teeth.

"Then have me," she answered, running her finger over his tip.

"But you are...so close...so tender..."

"And tonight I want you."

She shifted again, moving her head down to kiss him through his silk covering.

"Now," she added as she pushed his waistband down, revealing his pulsing erection to the cool air, causing him to twitch, a shudder shaking through his body.

"Sarah...are you sure...?" Jareth closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as she drew her finger nail lightly up from base to tip. Slowly, Sarah leant down and took as much of him as she could into her mouth. Sucking gently she swirled her tongue around his head before pulling away, causing Jareth to groan at the loss.

"Convinced?" she asked, glancing up at him.

Knowing he was lost Jareth nodded his head, motioning for her to roll over. When she questioned him with a glance he answered, "Well, we don't want to crush the boys now do we?"

Sarah sat up, pulling her night dress over her head before rolling onto her side, her back to Jareth. She felt his chest against her and his arm slip round her waist as he moved up behind her. His lips were soft on her shoulder, his hand gentle as he moved it up between her highly sensitive breasts to press gently on the silvery scar of his medallion.

"Mine," he whispered in her ear and at the single word, Sarah felt heat begin to pool between her legs in a way it had not done for the last five months. She shivered in anticipation, gasping out as Jareth's hand barely brushed her sensitive nipple on its way downwards. Reaching down, he rested his hand on the inside of her thigh, just above her knee as his lips found the crook of her neck, sucking gently. As he leant forward she felt him brush against her cheeks and heard him gasp, shuddering involuntarily against her. He ran his hand up to the apex of her thighs, feeling the moisture that had gathered there. He flicked her clit once before removing his hand in order to change his position once more. Very gently, he brought his tip to her slick entrance, biting his lip to resist the urge to thrust all the way in. Catching her thigh he supported her leg as he bent and lifted it, opening her to him. Gingerly, he pushed himself in, sighing at the feel of her walls engulfing him. Releasing her leg he brought his fingers back to her clit as he began to set a slow, gentle rhythm, lips working her shoulders and neck.

He felt her shudder and stilled his motions, fighting his baser instincts.

"Are you alright Precious?" he managed to ask. "We can stop if you want to?"

Slowly, he began to withdraw but she shook her head and he stopped.

"What is it?"

"It's just, that I love you so much."

Jareth brought his lips against the sensitive point on her shoulder, grazing it with his teeth as he resumed his thrusting, fingers never still. When she came it was a soft release of tension, his seed coating her spasming walls, his arms wrapped tight round her. And when it was over and she lay in his arms, contentment washing over her, she could not help the tears that started from her eyes.

"What is it my love?" Jareth asked, pulling her tighter against his chest.

"When I die, I want it to be like this. With you. Always you."

Jareth leant over and kissed the salt from her cheeks.

"We will go together Precious. Always together."

Sarah reached up and stroked the curve of his jaw and he turned his head, kissing her finger tips. He glanced down at her where she lay snuggled against him.

"Precious, I have to ask, what was the nightmare?"

Her hand stilled in its stroking and her voice was slightly too innocent when she asked, " What nightmare?"

"The one I woke you from. The reason we are awake," he gently persisted.

"I dreamt I was having the babies, and you were by my side holding my hand. But then I looked up and it wasn't you but Raemon and then the first baby was coming but when it was born it wasn't a baby but Hoggle. And he got up all grumbling like normal and reached back up inside me so that his whole arm disappeared, fumbled around a bit and pulled out three crystals, one containing you, one me and one Phoenix. And then he just walked away muttering. He went to leave the room but before he did he looked at me and smiled this cruel smile and hurled the crystals against the stone wall. And then I was floating away and Raemon was laughing and then...you woke me up."

Sarah was shuddering at the horrible memory of the dream and Jareth gathered her into his arms and kissed her gently. He pillowed her head against his shoulder and, holding her close he softly began to sing, just as he did when Phoenix awoke from a bad dream. As the melody washed over her, Sarah felt her eyes grow heavy, Jareth's gently rocking sending her off to drowsiness until all she could hear was the sound of his voice, accompanied by the lapping of distant waves on a faraway shore. And then even his voice was blurring as her breathing deepened and she was lost to the world of sleep.

Beautiful dreamer,  
Wake unto me  
Starlight and dewdrops  
Are awaiting thee

Sounds of the rude world  
Heard in the day  
Led by the moonlight  
Have all passed away

Beautiful dreamer,  
Queen of my song  
List' while I woo thee  
With soft melody

Gone are the cares of  
Life's busy throng  
Beautiful dreamer  
Awake unto me  
Beautiful dreamer,  
Awake unto me

Jareth looked down at the sleeping face of his wife, peaceful and smooth with the cares wiped away.

**Please let me know what you think! And keep reading! FY.A xxx**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hey, here's the next chapter. Please let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, added etc...I love you all! This was just a filler, to build an atmosphere...but don't dismiss it!**

**Enjoy. FY.A xxx**

The rhythm breathing of deep dreams was all that could be heard. In his sleep, Jareth rolled onto his stomach, his arm snaking unconsciously across the bed so that his hand rested lightly on Sarah's swollen stomach. Immediately her restlessness passed and she slipped once more into dreams. Jareth's eyes flickered beneath his lids as images of life, distorted by sleep swept through his mind. Softly, the wind rattled at the window pane, a leaf of climbing ivy brushing the sill in a steady swish swash, like the deep breathing of a dreamer. The clock on the mantle piece clicked on another minute in its steady, thirteen stop circle as the last ember flickered and died in the grate. The wind rattled the pane again, a chill draft creeping into the room. In the bed, Jareth rolled over again, unconsciously moving closer to Sarah, sharing his body heat with her. The light grew dimmer as a cloud past across the face of the Underground moon. The wind blew again and Jareth's eyes opened.

Jareth awoke with the strong impression that something had disturbed him. He glanced over at Sarah where she lay, her breathing undisturbed and her hand holding the swell of her sons. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece and the wind was blowing gently. Jareth lay back and listened to the sound of his kingdom breathing. And then, with the wind, came the voice in his mind.

"_Jareth. Awaken."_

Silently, Jareth rose from the bed, glancing back at Sarah to ensure she remained asleep. He crossed to the window, shivering in a cold he never usually felt.

"_I am awake," _he replied.

"_Then listen," _sighed the voice.

Transfixed, Jareth stood, leaning his hands on the window sill and staring out into the darkness. At first he could hear nothing but the wind, and the ticking of the clock, the whir of its mechanism as it slowly began to strike thirteen. And then, as the last chime echoed into stillness, on the wind came sound of singing. Not the sweet, lulling sound of the meadow mourners but taunting, like a child's nursery rhyme sung from spite, one such that he might have sung with Phoenix, but never like this. And as it went on the menace seemed to grow, until Jareth could feel eyes on the bare skin of his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Over in the meadow,  
In the sand in the sun  
Lived an old mother toadie  
And her little toadie one  
"Wink!" said the mother;  
"I wink!" said the one,  
So they winked and they blinked  
In the sand in the sun

Over in the meadow,  
Where the stream runs blue  
Lived an old mother fish  
And her little fishes two  
"Swim!" said the mother;  
"We swim!" said the two,  
So they swam and they leaped  
Where the stream runs blue

Over in the meadow,  
In a hole in a tree  
Lived an old mother bluebird  
And her little birdies three  
"Sing!" said the mother;  
"We sing!" said the three  
So they sang and were glad  
In a hole in the tree

Over in the meadow,  
In the reeds on the shore  
Lived an old mother muskrat  
And her little ratties four  
"Dive!" said the mother;  
"We dive!" said the four  
So they dived and they burrowed  
In the reeds on the shore

Over in the meadow,  
In a snug beehive  
Lived a mother honey bee  
And her little bees five  
"Buzz!" said the mother;  
"We buzz!" said the five  
So they buzzed and they hummed  
In the snug beehive

Over in the meadow,  
In a nest built of sticks  
Lived a black mother crow  
And her little crows six  
"Caw!" said the mother;  
"We caw!" said the six  
So they cawed and they called  
In their nest built of sticks

Over in the meadow,  
Where the grass is so even  
Lived a gay mother cricket  
And her little crickets seven  
"Chirp!" said the mother;  
"We chirp!" said the seven  
So they chirped cheery notes  
In the grass soft and even

Over in the meadow,  
By the old mossy gate  
Lived a brown mother lizard  
And her little lizards eight  
"Bask!" said the mother;  
"We bask!" said the eight  
So they basked in the sun  
On the old mossy gate

Over in the meadow,  
Where the quiet pools shine  
Lived a green mother frog  
And her little froggies nine  
"Croak!" said the mother;  
"We croak!" said the nine  
So they croaked and they splashed  
Where the quiet pools shine

Over in the meadow,  
In a sly little den  
Lived a gray mother spider  
And her little spiders ten  
"Spin!" said the mother;  
"We spin!" said the ten  
So they spun lacy webs  
In their sly little den

The singing dissolved into laughter.

The spiders. Chill finger tips traced blood trickles on Jareth's back. The meadow. The spiders. How many? Ten. No, eleven if you counted the mother. But they were gone. But so was she, a voice said in his mind, and you brought her back.

"_What does it mean?"_ Jareth sought with his mind but in the silence of the night all he heard was Pan's gentle sleep breathing, as the Labyrinth loved around him.

And in the morning, it seemed little more than a fast fading dream.


	39. Chapter 39

**Shocks for Jareth...what has he missed...? Something isn't right, but his happiness is complete. Jareth is getting angry at me for disturbing his happiness, I may have to bribe him with peaches.**

**Please R and R**

**Please Enjoy**

**Love and hugs**

**FY.A xxx**

Sarah gripped Jareth's hand forcefully as the sweat poured from her forehead. Her nails dug into the smooth white of his skin, small crescents of black welling where she broke the skin. The sound of Sarah's harsh breathing filled the bed chamber as Jareth leant forward once more, placing his hand flat against Sarah's stomach.

"Hush," he murmured gently as he brought his lips down against Sarah's heaving stomach, "hush."

At once Sarah relaxed, loosening her hold on his hand slightly as she flopped back against the pillows. Her eyes flickered open and Jareth saw pain and weariness sweeping through her soul. Reassuringly, he leant over and kissed her, his hand continuing to massage smooth circles on her belly. Sarah managed a weak smile.

"How long has it been?" Her voice sounded drained.

"Sixteen hours," despite the worry and anguish Jareth kept his voice level. "Not much longer Precious."

Sarah's eyes flickered shut again as she said, "They're sister is easier already."

Jareth smoothed his hand over her sweat damp hair as he thought of the birth of his daughter. Two years and one month ago Sarah had gone into labour, gentle contractions causing her to bring Jareth to her side. No midwife had arrived when only an hour later, smooth and painless, Phoenix had arrived in the Underground. It could not have been more opposed to this.

"My Lord?" Jareth's thoughts were interrupted by a scared voice from across the room. "My Lord, the longer you sooth the contractions the longer this labour will be."

Jareth turned blazing eyes on the cowering midwife, but when he spoke his voice was as cold as ice.

"Can you not see that she is in pain?" He rose and Sarah began to whimper again as his hand left her stomach. "How can I leave her? My wife, bringing forth my offspring. How can I let her suffer?"

"But My Lord you must or they shall never come forth. My Lord, let me..."

Jareth moved to the other side of Sarah as the midwife moved in to check Sarah's progress. Jareth linked his fingers through Sarah's, guilt wracking his soul as he felt her trembling. There was something wrong here, he knew. Fae births were supposed to be easy, a time of joy and not of pain. But this pregnancy had been tough from start to finish. Gently he slipped on to the bed as he helped Sarah raise herself for a final attempt. Bracing his knee behind her back he slipped an arm beneath her leg, helping her hold herself as she began to push once more. And then the midwife cried that the first was coming, and a second later that she could see the difficulty. The first head was out, but in the curve of its neck was the head of the second baby. As Sarah gave on final push and the babies slipped out it could be seen that they were lying facing each other, arms wrapped round the other's body, legs intertangled, one just slightly lower than the other. For a second as Sarah flopped back and Jareth laid her down there was complete silence. The midwife reached over and gently detangled the twins from each other. As she lifted the first away, the screaming began. Hastily, the midwife dealt with the chords while Jareth watched, carefully propping Sarah in a semi reclining position and slipping his arm round her waist.

The howling continued, tiny fists waving frantically in the air as the midwife approached, shouting over the deafening wails.

"My Lord...Your first born son."

And she handed the baby to Jareth. Jareth bent his head over the small bundle of life in his arms, whispering soothing nothings. Gently, he stroked his finger down his son's nose as the midwife handed the second baby to Sarah. Jareth snuggled closer to Sarah until he could see the face of his second son too. In contrast to his twin's wisps of blond, the second baby's hair was dark, still clinging to his head with moisture, his face screwed up as he wailed. And then waving fists connected, tiny fingers unfurling and reaching out as they seized hold of one another's hands while lying in their parents' arms. Abruptly, the crying ceased. Jareth leant down and kissed first the dark baby in Sarah's arms, and then the fair one in his own. Sleepily, the baby in his arms opened its eyes, milky glaze unable as yet to focus. Jareth gasped and Sarah struggled to look over, the shock apparent in her face too. She looked up at Jareth through tired eyes.

"My love," she whispered, "you certainly have a knack for choosing names. You were right. God has chosen."

Jareth looked down again into his son's eyes, a reflection of his own. One the clearest enfant blue, the other black as night.

"And his eyes?" Jareth asked Sarah as he craned to look at the younger twin, but his eyes were already shut.

"Blue," Sarah murmured sleepily, "like a baby's eyes should be."

She rested her head lightly on his shoulder.

Jareth kissed each son again and looked into the face of the baby in his arms, "Yes Nathaniel," he whispered, "God has chosen indeed." He looked at the other baby, nestling quietly against the crook of Sarah's arm, "And Rath, your Celtic looks do not belie your name, I trust you will be strong and true."

"_What does it mean?" _he asked of the Labyrinth.

"_His love, his life, his creation. His lost words," _came the answer.

Jareth frowned but before he could enquire further there was a faint knock on the door and it creaked open a crack. Hoggle's head poked round the gap.

"Sorries, Your Lordship," he said in a piercing whisper, "but the little Missy is wantings to see her brothers."

Jareth put his finger to his lips but nodded his head. Tentatively, Phoenix slipped round the door, her wide eyes taking in the mess before fixing on her father. Wordlessly she crossed to the bed and climbed up beside Jareth as Hoggle quietly closed the door.

"Gently," whispered Jareth as Phoenix reached out a finger and ran it lightly across the sleeping Nathaniel's cheek. She touched the sole of Rath's foot and he kicked gently in his sleep. Phoenix looked up at Jareth and smiled shyly.

"Daddy?" she asked, her blue eyes fixing him with a serious expression.

"Yes Phoenix?" he asked equally seriously.

"You still love me don't you? Even with Mummy and Nathaniel and Rath? You haven't run out of love have you? There's still enough for me too?"

"Honey," Jareth said and he kissed the top of her blond head, "I will always love you. I would go to the ends of the earth and beyond to save you, Mummy, Rath or Nathaniel. Never think I don't love you. I would lay down my life for one or all of you. You are my heart."

Phoenix looked up at him, working her way through his passionate statement, not realising how true it actually was. At last she nodded, looking down at her brothers.

"And Daddy?"

"Yes Honey?"

"Why've Nathaniel and Rath got willies like you, instead of being like me and Mummy?"

Jareth chuckled lightly at his daughter's innocent question.

"That my dear, is a question for the morning." He smiled down at her.

"Ok Daddy," she said. She huddled against his arm, leaning her warm body against his side as she curled up. Her thumb slipped into her mouth. "I love you Daddy," she muffled through her thumb.

"Love you Phoenix," he replied.

He felt her thumb slip from her mouth. "Daddy?" she asked.

"Yes Phoenix?"

"Sing me my one."

She snuggled back against his arm as Jareth softly began the haunting lilt of the sad melody. He could feel it in his still heart, the pain of the singer, of the loss they had felt. And he knew that the aching would never leave, the loss of the child. But he sang, the tears of joy, the tears of fear, pricking at his eyes. Phoenix' small arm slipped round his waist.

Would she were here, my little one  
Would she were here, my joy my treasure  
Would she were here, my little one

Blue her eye, as skies in summer  
Sweet her smile as flower at blooming

Would she were here, my little one  
Would she were here, my joy my treasure  
Would she were here, my little one

Soft her cheek, as eider down is  
Warm and soft her arms entwining

Would she were here, my little one  
Would she were here, my joy my treasure  
Would she were here, my little one

Jareth paused, looking at his family, sleeping around him, trusting him with their helplessness and he felt a great sense of responsibility. He whispered the last verse, hardly singing, as though if he said it aloud it might come true and they might really be gone.

Gaze, I see her in the gloaming  
Gaze, I spy her sad and weary

Would she were here, my little one  
Would she were here, my joy my treasure  
Would she were here, my little one


	40. Chapter 40

**Here is the next chapter. Again, there is a bit of a time jump as I wasn't sure you needed to know about all the dirty nappies etc! Poor Jareth is feling a little bit worried, so be nice to him. You don't want to be locked in an oubliette, trust me. He tried that one on me when I wrote this chapter, but I escaped using a very cunning system...OK not that cunning, Hoggle let me out because he was tired of babies and wanted me to make them children instead. LOL.**

**Hope you enjoy it and please, please review.**

**Love you all, FY.A**

"On guard, noble sir!" the little fox like creature cried brandishing is short sword.

"Hah! I will fight you to the death, you slimy cur," the dark haired four year old answered in mock defiance, struggling to free is wooden dagger from the belt of his tunic.

Didymus lunged forward in playful attack and Rath leapt back, squealing as he tumbled backwards into the pool at the bottom of the waterfall in Jareth's secret garden. As Rath rose to the surface, hair plastered flat to his head, the blond streak that ran from his temple stood out in stark contrast to the sleek black of the rest. His blue eyes flashed but as he opened his mouth to speak there was a flash of light and Didymus was thrown backwards to land hard on the green grass as a small figure appeared before him. Rath's cry of "It's not fair" died on his lips as he scrambled to his feet in the pool, dripping wet and looking anxiously over at his father.

Jareth was on his feet in a moment, mismatched eyes like ice as he strode to where Nathaniel was standing over Didymus, hand raised over his prone figure. The air turned thick with the tingle of magic as Jareth drew himself to his full commanding height.

"Nathaniel..." he said, his voice cold, a clear warning.

"But Father," came the stolid reply, "he pushed Rath in the water."

"Let him go."

Nathaniel did not move. Didymus eyes flicked from Nathaniel to Jareth, before returning to fix on the blond four year old's hovering hand.

"Nathaniel," Jareth warned again.

Without shifting his gaze from his own outstretched hand, the little boy shook his head.

"Let him go Nath, I don't mind," called Rath as he pulled himself from the water, instantly drying as his feet touched the bank. He shook his head and his hair returned to its customary perfection of disarray.

Nathaniel shook his head again and Jareth sighed. There was the sound like a whip crack and Nathaniel pulled his hand away sharply as though burned. Elixsyure shied away from where he had been grazing, Phoenix slipping sideways and losing her grip on his glossy shoulder. Jareth spun, raising his hand in her direction and slowing her fall so she could land on her feet. He turned slowly back to Nathaniel who was nursing his hand and glowering up at Jareth through his thick white blond fringe.

"Help him up," commanded Jareth.

Nathaniel continued to glower.

"Nathaniel, help him up."

Scowling Nathaniel turned and held out his hand, offering it to Didymus who grasped it, leaping lightly to his feet and ruffling the young prince's hair.

"Well noble sir, it seems you caught me unawares as I dispatched your good brother." Rath grinned good naturedly back at Didymus. "And if my good master over there had not been on hand to defend me, I fear I should have been the worst for it. Sir...I yield to thee."

Didymus swept off his hat with a flourish, bowing low before the small fae Prince who shyly began to smile.

"But good sir," cried Didymus bounding upright again, "let me teach you how to parry a slide thrust, one of the most deadly cross guards in the art of duelling."

Nathaniel reached eagerly for his sword as Rath jumped up grinning, finally managing to free his own weapon from the folds of his tunic. Jareth glanced over at Phoenix, who was now sitting happily on the grass and making daisy chains which, one by one, she was then feeding to Elixsyure, giggling as his soft muzzle tickled her palm. The kindly Pegasus rested his muzzle lightly on the young princess's shoulder, blowing his arm breath against the crook of her neck. Jareth smiled contentedly and turned, strolling back over to where Sarah was reclining on the river bank. Reaching her he extended his hand.

"My dear, let us take a stroll," he said and then, observing Sarah's anxious glance towards their children, "do not worry for them, they are happy and playing."

Sarah took his outstretched hand and he aided her to her feet, reaching round to brush the grass from the back of her dress. As his hands smoothed down her back Sarah took a step closer to him, reaching up to run her fingers along the line of his jaw. Jareth's fingers tightened their hold over her bum, pressing her body against his as he stared into her face. Slowly, he pulled her in and kissed her mouth and as he drew back, Sarah could see his pupils had dilated with desire. He kissed her lightly again and brought his lips close to her ear.

"Let's go to the summerhouse," he murmured.

Together they turned their backs on the excited shouts of the duellers. Jareth's arm snaked possessively round Sarah's waist, fingers curling round the point of her hip as he held her firmly to his side. As they walked Sarah moved her arm so the children couldn't see, letting her hand rest briefly on Jareth's upper thigh, allowing her loose sleeve brush the bulge in his breeches.

"Temptress," Jareth muttered low in her ear, his voice silky and dripping with lust.

Sarah felt herself begin to melt at the sound. As they reached the door, Jareth spun Sarah round so her back pressed against the sun warmed wood. Trapping her body with his own, he leant in against her and kissed her, tongue delving deep into her mouth. He placed his hand flat against the door so the lock mechanism clicked and Sarah stumbled back into the room. Jareth caught her arm, spinning her again and pressing her against this, cooler side of the door as the lock slid shut behind them. Jareth's lips descended on hers, devouring her and sucking the breath from her lungs. His body pressed her tight against the solid door, his need pressing into her stomach. Suddenly, he tore his mouth from hers and stepped back. She looked up at him, dazed.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice harsh as his eyes swept hungrily up and down her body.

Sarah licked her suddenly dry lips. Still, after seven years living in the Underground, his voice could tie knots in her stomach, his eyes cause a red flush to rise. Every time with him was new, was special. There was never a routine. She remembered the first time she had entered this summerhouse, two days after the spiders had been banished and Time defeated. She had stared up in awe at the portrait of herself, never finding the words to ask the questions that burned through her mind. And Jareth had made love to her on simple bed against the wall. Afterwards, as Sarah had rested her head on his naked chest she had wept for the silence she could hear, her tears running down the groove at the centre of his rib cage to pool in the hollow of his stomach. So he had made love to her again. And again. To prove his love and his life and his vitality. He had kissed the swell that had been Phoenix, telling her that while she may come in the midst of fear, her life would be filled with love. And when he was inside her he had stopped, and kissed her, and told her she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And as Sarah had slipped into sleep she had heard again his words, as though he were saying them now, which perhaps he was.

"'_Til the world falls down. Forever. Forever and ever."_

Sarah could no longer hear the shouts of the twins as they mock duelled with Didymus, the wood soundproofing them in. Slowly she raised her eyes to Jareth's, dragging them up his body, feeling the heat grow as she saw the extent of his arousal. She slid off her sandals, raising her hands to the buttons that started at the back of her neck. Carefully, she began to undo them. Jareth watched her, his eyes blazing, foot tapping in impatience. After a few moments he growled in impatience, striding over and turning her, pressing her front against the smooth wooden wall and holding her there with his left hand at her neck, while with his right hand he deftly unfastened the remaining buttons. He pushed his hands through the gap, circling her waist and pulling her hard back against him, mouth finding the soft skin of her neck, dress slipping to her waist as his hands rose up to fondle her breasts. She pressed back against him, reaching her own hands back to find his hips, holding them together. She leant against him, tipping her head back and to the side until their mouths could meet. Carefully, she turned in his arms and he moaned into her mouth as the movement caused her to rub against his aching erection. Lowering his hands from her hair where they had been resting, he pushed her dress the rest of the way down, sliding her underwear off with it. He took a step back, allowing her to step out of it. After a few more moments he broke the kiss, looking down into Sarah's flushed face.

"Lie on the bed," he commanded silkily.

Sarah crossed the room to where the bed stood against the wall. She lay down on top of the soft red blanket. Jareth reached one gloved hand into the air and produced a soft, black blindfold. Crawling up the bed and covering her body with his he kissed her hotly, pressing his body tight against hers, tongue pumping in and out of her mouth in anticipation of what was to come. Suddenly he pulled away leaving Sarah dizzy and unable to see, her eyes securely covered. She could hear absolutely nothing for a few moments, which was why she jumped when Jareth's voice spoke right in her ear, cold and smooth, and more than a little turned on.

"You will do as I tell you." Sarah nodded her head as she was sure all she would have been able to do was squeak. "Raise your arms."

Obediently Sarah lifted both arms above her head. She felt the soft caress of leather as Jareth secured first one wrist, then the other, to the head board. Again there was silence. Pad of leather tapped against the inside of her ankle, the swat of his riding crop she realised. Obediently she opened her legs, feeling herself becoming more aroused than ever as she felt Jareth secure each ankle to the foot posts of the bed. She couldn't move a muscle. Jareth's voice sounded silky in her ear.

"Sarah," there was an undertone of reassurance in his voice, making Sarah wonder exactly what he was planning. "I'm not going to gag you because then I can't kiss you. But I'm going to take away your voice. And your hearing. I want you to know only the sensation. Is this alright?"

Sarah hesitated a few moments, the well known thrill of fear coursing through her, working up her adrenaline her body, and she felt herself growing wetter at the prospect. She would be completely defenceless. Slowly, she nodded her head. The soft leather of Jareth's gloves brushed lightly across her lips, as though searching for an invisible thread. In that moment Sarah realised that she could hear it, the brush of the leather, the creak of the bed, the sound of Jareth's tongue as it darted over his suddenly dry lips. And the life of the Labyrinth. Her breath. Her heart beat. Pan's life. And then Jareth's finger tips brushed lightly over the shell of her ears and it was gone. There was nothing but blackness. And silence. And love.

"_Are you still alright?_" Jareth's voice spoke into her mind.

Unable to follow a coherent line of thought, Sarah again nodded.

Jareth stepped back and looked at the figure of his wife, lying naked and defenceless before him. His eyes were so darkened with lust that they felt hot in his head, pounding in his head, through his veins, gathering in unbearable readiness in his cock. He retrieved his riding crop from where he had laid it on the bed. Sarah twitched as he rested it lightly on the soft skin of her stomach. Despite her carriage of twins, the ivory expanse was still flat, smooth, unmarked. Jareth brought his lips down next to his crop, running his hands over the line of her waist and letting his teeth graze the skin bellow her naval. Sarah's lips parted in a silent gasp and her head turned to one side. Jareth pulled himself up the bed and captured her mouth, kissing her deliciously slowly. As he pulled away her head rose a few inches in an attempt to follow him. Jareth smiled and leant close, darting his tongue between her parted lips once, twice, never allowing her to establish contact. Then he plunged his mouth back over hers forcing his tongue between her teeth to engage hers in a hot pitched battle.

His mouth tore away from hers and once more Sarah was left with the darkness and the silence. She tried to imagine what he might be doing. With her heightened senses she could feel his gaze burning her body. She imagined him reaching down to stroke himself lightly, the look on his face that of one who was cold, cruel and powerful. She imagined his leather clad fingers curling sensuously around the grip of his riding crop and startled when, a moment or two later she felt its swat dragging slowly over the line of her cheek.

Jareth drew the crop down her pale neck, watching as she twisted her head to allow him better access, over her left breast, teasing lightly at the nipple before drawing further down across her stomach to trail down the outside of her thigh. He brushed the swat over the sole of her foot, biting his tongue lightly between his teeth as her toes curled in reaction. He leant down and kissed the pad of her foot, teeth nipping lightly at the skin. He pulled away again and Sarah felt the crop travelling once more, this time up in the inside of her leg, towards her centre. But Jareth stopped just short of wear he knew she longed to be touched, drawing light circles at the top of her thigh, enjoying the sight of her parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest as she panted for breath. Deftly, he flicked his wrist, tapping the crop lightly against her engorged clit. Sarah's body spasmed up off the bed as pleasure rushed through her system. Jareth counted slowly to ten before repeating the movement. And Sarah came undone, releasing herself on a tidal wave of passion. Quickly Jareth twirled the crop in his fingers, thrusting the softly bound handle up inside her, pumping hard between her shuddering walls. He bent his head and sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive numb, flicking it and grazing his teeth over the flesh. Barely had Sarah's first orgasm subsided when her second hit. Her fingers clenched and her mouth opened, the exposed position of her body heightening the sensations as she felt Jareth shift between her legs, fingers parting her nether lips so his intense gaze could observe in intimate detail.

Sarah lay in the darkness and the silence, shuddering as the after affects drained away. She was panting and it felt like her skin was on fire. She gasped as she felt a cool tongue lick away a trickle of sweat that was trailing over her breast. His clever fingers, played with her nipples, teasing them back to erectness as his body covered hers once more and their mouths met. Two realisations hit Sarah at once. First, that she could taste herself on his lips and tongue, and second that he was naked. She bit lightly on his lower lip, her body stilling in anticipation. Jareth thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, at the same time entering her forcefully, filling her completely. Her head snapped back and he thrust again, his foot catching his riding crop where it lay discarded on the bed, sending it clattering to the floor. He ignored it. He concentrated on the feeling of being inside his Sarah, her hot walls squeezing, rubbing, stimulating as he set a fast rhythm. He rotated his hips slightly; hitting that spot inside her that he knew made her lose control. And she was coming again, her walls tightening around him as they worked out their climax. He let himself go with her, the build up having made him all but ready. His climax hit him hard as he thrust once more, penetrating deeply, holding himself off her as the final waves shuddered through his shaking body. When it had finished he withdrew carefully, smoothing his hands over her sweat damp body. He released her legs and she closed them, drawing them up to near her chest. When he freed her arms she reached for him, wrapping them round his lean, muscled torso. His fingers brushed her lips, restoring her voice before ghosting over her ears. Hurriedly, he placed his palms flat against them; block most of the noise that she could suddenly hear lest it be too much for her system to bear. After a few moments he eased them slowly away to remove the blindfold, shielding her eyes from the light as he did so. Her green eyes blinked up at him.

"Are you alright, Precious?" he asked. She nodded her head. "You can speak again; I have returned your voice."

She nodded her head again.

"That was...amazing," she breathed as she looked up at him, her eyes full of love.

They lay side by side for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling, the sweat cooling on their bodies.

"Jareth?"

"Yes Precious?"

"Jareth, I'm worried about the twins."

Jareth truned onto his side, propping himself on his elbow to look down at her.

"How so, My Love?"

"I'm not sure...They are so different and yet...so the same. Nathaniel is powerful, that is for sure. But there is a hard side to him. He doesn't engage, except where it comes to Rath. And then there's Rath..." Sarah tailed off and Jareth smiled down at the look of worry on her face.

"Yes Precious, Nathaniel is powerful, more so than his brother and sister. But in comparison to some it is not extraordinary."

"You, you mean?"

"Yes," Jareth replied, though not with arrogance. "And yes, he can be harsh. That display with Didymus just now for instance...but he is fae and he is arrogant, full of his own self importance."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Sarah smiled and Jareth glared down at her.

"You should mind your tongue," he warned, " you may be my wife and queen, but that does not put you above a good beating." He grinned wolfishly and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Rath...yes. He is much weaker. His magic is...weak. He leans on his brother and yet..." Jareth's eyes slid from Sarah's his expression vacant as he retreated into his thoughts. Sarah reached up and brushed a stray blond lock from his face. His attention snapped back to her. "We are probably worrying over nothing," he smiled again, "come on, we hadst best return."

Sarah nodded and rose, crossing to wear her clothes lay on the stone floor. Quickly she dressed before slipping out the door, closing it quickly lest any of the children be nearby and happen to catch a glance of their naked father who was still lounging in the bed, despite his words.

As Sarah turned from the door she realised immediately that something was wrong. The garden was silent, no noise from the children, even the birds had stopped singing. While they had been inside a fog had drifted in, filling the air with damp and cutting out the sun. Sarah shivered and she glanced behind her. The summerhouse was barely visible through the swirling mists. She looked around for any sign of the children, panicking when she realised she could barely see five feet in front of her. In her distress she called for them, shouting their names along with those of Didymus and Elixsyure. Her throat felt hoarse as the cold invaded her lungs. Her knees shook and tears sprang to her eyes. As she fell silent she stilled, sure she had heard something, drifting through the whiteness. Singing, low and mournfull, as though of a telling of a deep sadness. Sarah began to run towards the noise, stumbling over unseen ruts in the damp grass. As she approached she saw the figure of a woman, wandering through the grass as though searching, her eyes blank and unseeing. At the same moment, the words of her song became clear.

I left my baby lying here,  
Lying here, lying here  
I left my baby lying here  
To go and gather blaeberries.

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I saw the swan upon the lake  
Upon the lake, upon the lake  
I saw the swan upon the lake  
But never found my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I heard the curlew crying far  
Crying far, crying far  
I heard the curlew crying far  
But never heard my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I searched the moorland tarns and then  
Wandered through each silent glen  
I saw the mist upon the ben  
But never saw my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

The woman fell to her knees, desolving into tears as the last "O" became a howl of misery. Sarah stopped a few yards from the woman, expecting her to look up. The woman continued to sob into her hands.

"Never found him, never heard him, never saw. O, my poor baby, O," she wailed.

"Um, excuse me?" tried Sarah.

"My poor, poor baby," sobbed the woman.

"What happened to him?" Sarah asked, taking another step forward.

"Lost, my poor lost baby boy, oh," the woman was still crying into her hands.

"I'm very sorry," Sarah said. "I'm looking for my children, have you seen them? They were her a minute ago?" Sarah was getting very worried that there was still no sign of any of the children.

"Gone," whispered the woman. "Gone. Never to return. I should never have let him go."

Sarah was growing impatient. She felt sorry for the woman, she truly did, but at present she was more worried about finding Phoenix, Nathaniel and Rath. She reached out her hand and took hold of the woman's arm, dragging her hand from her face. The woman spun round, as though aware of Sarah's prensence for the first time. Sarah felt the ground shift beneath her feet and the blood drained from her face.

The woman was her. Tear streaked and unkempt, but unmistakeably her. The other Sarah seized her forearms, her grip digging into the flesh of her arms, so tight it was painful. She seemed to stare through Sarah, as though she couldn't really see her.

"Will they?" she asked and her breath was cold on Sarah's face. "Will they?"

"Will they what?" she stammered, more than a little freaked out.

Her duplicate self shifted, her bright green eyes suddenly staring intently into Sarah's, drawing her face closer. Her breath smelled of loss.

"When they come, will the lost souls be forgot?"

Suddenly the duplicate Sarah pushed, toppling Sarah over backwards with surprising strength. Sarah's eyes closed in anticipation of the impact, but instead she felt strong arms wrap round her as her back came into contact with a strong, muscled chest. Jareth's voice spoke in her ear.

"Steady there Precious. What has happened? You look pale."

Slowly, Sarah opened her eyes. The sun beat down in the clear garden and shouts of play floated across for the pool. There was a splash as Nathaniel leapt from the top of the waterfall, and shrieks from Phoenix as the cold water reached her. She could here Rath laughing loudly as he stood, stripped to the waist beside the tree against which she and Jareth had once made love, his boyish stomach sucked in and his hand outstretched.

"Look," he cried to Didymus who was sitting on Elixsyure's quarters, recline gin the sun, "I'm Daddy!" And he leapt in the before spreading his arms wide and running along the grass, flapping like a bird in flight.

Jareth's arms tightened around Sarah.

"They're safe," she whispered, "they're all safe."

Instead of asking her, Jareth sought her with his mind, watching what she had seen unfold before him. When she tried to seek him back however, he placed a barrier in her way, closing off her thoughts.

"What does it mean Jareth?" Sarah asked as she turned in his arms to look into his face.

"I don't know Precious. It was probably just a sun illusion."

He disentangled himself from her arms, but as he turned away his face was troubled. Sarah reached for his hand and together they crossed back over the lawn to the edge of the pool.


	41. Chapter 41

**Heya! This is just a quick follow on form the last chapter, showing a bit more development while I work on the main plot. Jareth's fighting a bit so I had to distract him with this. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Please review! xxxx**

The rain plummeted to earth in sheets, so heavy as to leave bruises on bare skin. Thunder crashed overhead and the loch was illuminated by a flash of lightening. Phoenix pressed herself closer against Sarah as they huddled in the open doorway of the castle and Sarah wrapped her arm around her daughter, stroking her hair as the little girl shook and another roll of thunder echoed through the Labyrinth.

"Boys, come back!" Sarah called but was unable to make her voice heard over the ferocity of the Underground storm. Fifty yards away Nathaniel danced once more out of Rath's reach as the younger twin lunged in a manic game of tag. His mouth was open but the sound of his laughter was lost on the wind. Both boys hair was plastered to their heads as they shrieked and leapt once more for each other. Overhead there was a swish of wings and in the next flash of lightening Sarah made out the swooping silhouette of a ghostly owl.

"Daddy!" Rath's shout was just audible over the rain.

Nathaniel turned to stare up into the sky and in his moment of distraction Rath pounced, leaping onto his brother's back and toppling him towards the ground. Rath hit the mud on all fours, Nathaniel suddenly no longer beneath him. Sarah looked wildly around; trying to see where Nathaniel had materialised but the rain was too heavy. Jareth's feet touched the ground, his shadow elongating in the lightening to become that of a man, and Sarah was reminded vividly of the night they first met. Jareth stooped and hauled his younger son to his feet, bending over him. Ignoring the rain, Sarah ran to where the stood. Within seconds she was soaked to the skin.

"Jareth," she shouted over the thunder, "where is Nathaniel?"

He shook his head mutely, knowing that his six year old son could vanish, but also knowing that as yet Nathaniel had little power, except in times of strong emotion, as to where he reappeared.

"Daddy! Mummy! Nath's in the lake!" Phoenix voice held panic as she sttod at the edge of the water, her eyes wide with fear.

Sarah screamed, abandoning Jareth and Rath and running towards the edge of the loch, shedding shoes and jersey as she went. Her eyes were fixed on the shock of blond hair as it disappeared for the second time beneath the churning waves. Materialising in front of her Jareth wrapped his amrs tightly round her, holding her back from the water's edge.

"_No,"_ he said into her mind as a panting Rath caught up with them. He caught Rath's arm. "Rath!" he shouted. "Don't let Mummy into the water."

Rath nodded his head fiercely and wrapped his small arms round Sarah's waist, holding her with a strength that belied his six years. There was a streak of white as Jareth transformed, swooping to the centre of the loch and folding his wings like an osprey, plunging head first into the frothing water. Sarah looked out towards the place where he had vanished, ears dead to the sound of the storm she felt as though she too were under water, and everything was moving in slow motion.

Jareth forced his eyes to stay open against the buffeting of the waves, peering through the darkness. Blond hair and a pale face, Nathaniel was sinking slowly towards the bottom of the lake, eyes wide and a trail of bubbles escaping from his blue lips. Jareth reached his hand down, strtching through the icy water to catch hold of his son. Nathaniel's body convulsed, and then his hand was in Jareth's and he was kicking for the surface. Jareth's head broke the surface of the water and he pulled Nathaniel higher, wrapping his arms round the boy's waist. Nathaniel gasped in a deep breath and then the weight of their clothes became too much and their heads bobbed back beneath the surface. Jareth kicked hard, calling to the Labyrinth to help them. Jareth's eyes flew open and as the once more surfaced he shouted into his son's ear.

"Nathaniel, follow me. The Labyrinth will help you. Concentrate on your power and not on what you're doing."

Transforming Jareth beat his water logged wings hard, fighting against the wind and the power of the storm. He rose a few feet, snagging his talons through the material of Nathaniel's tunic and pulling hard. His wings ached with the effort as he forced them higher. And then his talons could hold the weight no longer and Nathaniel was falling back towards the water. Jareth dived with him, shielding his son's body beneath his wing span. Nathaniel's eyes were screwed tight in concentration. A second later he was spiralling out of control white feathers being picked up by the wind and sent swishing away into the darkness. Jareth kept with him, urging his son to stop his plummeting descent, spreading his wings wider in an effort to keep away the wind. Nathaniel's wings opened and he pressed his back close against Jareth's underbelly. Together they turned back towards the shore, pulling upwards just enough to avoid the storm whipped frenzy beneath them. Sarah's eyes were wide as she reached for the approaching white ghosts but it was Rath who took the hit as his brother once more lost control beneath the wind's fury. Nathaniel transformed once more, too tired to keep flying he hit Rath full in the chest, once more sending his brother sprawling in the mud. Phoenix clung to her mother's skirt, acting more like the three year old she ahd been five years ago in the face of the emergency. Jareth's feet touched the ground and immediately he was on his knees in the mud, prising Rath's arms from round his brother and rolling Nathaniel onto his back. The mud soaked through his breeches but he didn't care as he pressed his ear to Nathaniel's chest.

The boys eyes were shut and his lips were blue. Sarah crouched down next to Jareth. And Phoenix wrapped her arms round her neck. Rath was still lying in the mud next to his brother, his arms wrapping back round him, whispering urgently in his ear. Jareth sat up and smacked his hand down sharply on Nathaniel's chest. Nathaniel's eyes flew open and he rolled to the side, vomiting lake water into the mud. Phoenix turned aside, her face screwed up in disgust. Jareth's eyes found Sarah and for a moment held her gaze. She loved him desperately for the relief she saw reflected there. Turning his back to her he lifted Nathaniel into his arms and vanished, heading for the bedroom in the tower. After a few moments Rath rose to his feet and shook his head, his hair drying for a split second before the rain smoothed back to his head. He turned and, as Sarah looked up at him from a crouched position on the ground, she could not repress the shudder that swept through her. For a second, just for a moment, it was not Rath but Raemon who stared defiantly down at her. And then the moment passed and he was just a frightened little boy. He turned determinedly and set off through the rain back towards the door.

Sarah stared after his retreating figure, wondering what had come over her. A tugging on her arm brought her back to her senses.

"Mummy?" Phoenix' eyes were wide and imploring.

Sarah rose and wrapped her arms around her daughter, kissing the top of her head before lifting her and carrying her back towards the castle.

"I was an owl," Nathaniel's voice was full of pride as he sat, propped up by pillows in the centre of his parent's bed the next morning.

Rath nodded back, beaming from where he perched at the bed's foot.

"And I can dematerialise," Nathaniel boasted, "you can't do that can you Rath."

Rath smiled and shook his head.

"You need to learn to decide on a destination before you vanish," Jareth said pointedly from where he sat in the armchair, Phoenix curled up his lap and playing with the ties of his dressing gown. "You can't just go and decide on where you want to turn up later, you've got to plan it, concentrate."

Nathaniel looked sullen. "You don't," he muttered.

"I've had more practice," Jareth answered meeting his son's gaze. Nathaniel was first to drop his eyes.

Phoenix tossed her head, hair blond hair catching the sunlight and sending a rippling effect across the stone walls.

"I'm rubbish at magic," she announced cheerfully and Rath smiled gratefully at her. She held out her hand to Rath who slipped off the bed and ambled across to her to take it. "Doesn't matter," she told him, "Mummy says so and she can't do magic. Isn't that right Daddy?"

Jareth kissed the top of her head.

"Where is Mummy?" Rath asked, looking up at Jareth with his piercingly blue eyes.

"In the shower," answered Nathaniel. He had spent the night sleeping between his parents so they could see he was none the worse for his experience in the loch. "Something about getting the mud out of her hair."

Rath giggled and Phoenix squeezed his hand.

"See Rathy," she said encouragingly, "Mummy can't even dry her hair herself, she just has to wait."

Rath grinned up at his elder sister.

"I could dry all your hair," Nathaniel announced from the bed, "and then make it wet again."

Rath scowled. "No you couldn't Nathaniel," Jareth interjected, "someday perhaps but not yet. Anyway, I think your power could be put to better use than a mobile hair washing unit."

Phoenix reached up and took hold of his fringe.

"I could do your hair for you Daddy?" she asked, splitting the section she held into three in preparation to making a braid.

Hastily Jareth got to his feet, setting Phoenix carefully on the ground. She seized the ties of his dressing gown again and began tugging them into the twisted shape of a two strand plait.

"Careful Honey," he admonished gently, pulling her hands away from himself, "watch out where those hands are, we don't want Daddy's dressing gown falling off do we?"

Phoenix clasped her hands behind her back.

"Is that because you've got a willie?" she asked, unabashed.

Jareth smiled lightly. "That may have something to do with it," he replied.

"But I've seen Nathaniel's and Rath's," Phoenix countered, "so what's the difference?"

"Yes," Rath agreed, "I don't mind!"

As if to demonstrate this he pulled off his pyjama bottoms which were all he wore and stuck them on his head, running round the room with his arms spread wide.

"Look Nathaniel," he shouted, "You were an owl but I'm an owl with no feathers. And I can still fly!"

Nathaniel grinned and scrambled out of bed, tugging off his pyjama bottoms two. Pulling them onto his head he held the legs up with his hands.

"See Daddy," he laughed, "I'm Herne, just like in the stories. And I can turn into a deer."

Jareth sighed and shook his head. Phoenix tugged on his hand.

"Daddy," she asked seriously, "who would win? A naked owl or a deer that could only walk on tow legs?"

Jareth frowned slightly and opened his mouth to answer but was too late as the boys leapt on each other with whoops of "Let's find out!"

Sarah entered the chamber from the bathroom, her damp hair hanging round her shoulders. She stared at the heap of flying limbs mixed with flashes of black and white blond. She looked up at Jareth questioningly. Jareth shrugged.

"I think Nathaniel is feeling a little better now," he replied, his face deadpan.


	42. Chapter 42

**Sorry about the massive wait, was on holiday. It was great but there were no computers! Next chapter is nearly done but this is just an apology for the wait. Please don't give up on me!**

Phoenix stood, looking out across the Labyrinth, her hair swaying lightly in the warm breeze from her open window. The darkness shone in the light of the stars, blackness gleaming against the silver of the moon. As though in a dream, she loosened the tie of her dressing gown, allowing it to fall open, her naked body becoming bathed in the bright darkness. She turned to the mirror and below her six eyes that had been watching her closely blinked shut.

Phoenix examined her body in the darkness, a pale silhouette. Her father's clean cut face looked back at her, though softer like the curve of her mother's cheek. Her blue eyes shone and her hair looked silver in the moonlight. She lay her hands against her chest, feeling the light swell beginning in her breasts, early at fourteen for one of fae blood. It must be her mother's influence, she mused. She allowed her finger to trace the line of her stomach which was hollowing now to the line of a woman, no longer the belly of a child. And the place between her legs. Lightly, she touched the entrance to her secret place and smiled at herself in the mirror. Her secret.

She shut her eyes, letting her head fall back so that she faced the ceiling, reaching her arms out to the sides and spinning slowly on the spot. Her body. Hers.

But then the feeling changed, like she was falling into blackness, through her open window and towards the ground. And then there was pain. And she could see her father, her mother and Nathaniel, weeping tears that forced themselves from their eyes and scuttled down their faces on eight hairy legs. But they were not crying for her, they had not even noticed her as their faces cleared in the moment of terror as a tidal wave of black blood forced itself upon them, engulfing them and tearing them away, and Phoenix was reaching for them, and crying and screaming, her hands over her ears as her tears solidified before her eyes, floating up to towards the sky, each containing a different member of her family.

Jareth's arms slid around his daughter as she crouched on her bedroom floor sobbing. He held her close, kissing her hair and murmuring into her ear. Slowly her legs gave way and she leant against him while the shuddering sobs subsided and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent that was the safety of his magic. Gently he drew her to her feet and she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head now level with his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head again; placing his hands on her shoulders he pushed her back so that he could look at her. She was shivering and cold, and naked. Stooping, he retrieved her robe from the floor where it had fallen and draped it round her shoulders, fitting her arms into the sleeves the way he had when she had been tiny. In the moments before he pulled it shut he noticed something for the first time. Phoenix, his daughter, was no longer a little, but a young woman. He felt a lump rise in his throat and gathered her closer against himself as though wishing to cuddle her back into childhood. Picking her up, he settled her under the covers her bed, ones that were no longer pink, but a clean plain white. He held her until her breathing steadied.

Jareth rose and crossed to the window of his daughter's bedroom, standing in the spot she had held not half an hour earlier. He twisted his head, some sixth sense telling him he was not alone. He looked out over the grounds, and shook his head, wondering at the growing sense of unease that was nagging at him. What was he missing?

At last Jareth shrugged and turned, putting the worry down to his daughter's nightmare and his worry about her. He watched her for a few more moments. A horrible thought occurred to him. Phoenix was now the same age as Sarah had been when he had first touched her, made her run his Labyrinth, lusted after her. And he had been watching her for much longer, had seen her body change even as Phoenix's was doing now, seen Sarah examine her new body, discovering the life in it. He glanced quickly at his sleeping daughter, wondering. Eventually he turned and forced his shoulders to relax, exhaling gently. But before he left he crossed once more to the window and tugged the curtains shut, seeing not the Labyrinth and his daughter's bedroom, but the sleeping form of a fourteen year old Sarah, with himself perched just outside.


	43. Chapter 43

**OK so here is the next chapter. Like I said before, sorry it was so long coming. Hope you like it because it was quite difficult to right and Jareth is very angry at me again.**

**ON with the story. FY.A xxx**

Sarah rolled over in bed; her eyes flickering open in the darkness. Automatically she stretched a hand out, seeking to find Jareth. He was not there. She rolled back over and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to reclaim her, scarcely wondering in which of the children's rooms Jareth may be, for she knew that in his own restlessness he loved to watch them sleep.

Dreams wove silver tangles through her mind, tugging her into a world of fantasy. A horse that turned into a rabbit, Didymus chasing it through underground burrows while Hoggle tried his best to teach Rath to surf on the carpet that inexplicably lay on the lawn. And then, as dreams do, the scene shifted and she was standing in a bright sunlit meadow, the sound of a stream gurgling in the background. There was a single hooded man strolling towards her, and as he approached he raised pale fingers, lowering his hood. Sarah lifted her eyes and stared into the face of someone she thought she would always fear.

Raemon's cold blue eyes stared at her, searching her soul. He took a step towards her, and then another. Taking hold of her upper arms gently he leant towards her and placed his lips softly against hers. He drew back and looked into her eyes and, inexplicably, she nodded. He placed his lips back over hers, gentle, much less sure than Jareth. There was no possession. She parted her lips and touched her tongue to the tip of his. He pulled away and shook his head slightly. He rested his hands on her shoulders, his dark hair tickling her forehead. She thought of Jareth, and the growing tension and worry she had observed within him. She pressed herself closer to Raemon, searching for an answer in his eyes. She blinked and for a moment it was not Raemon who stood before her but Rath, tall and handsome. Dark hair cascading over Jareth's handsome features, the blond streak running from his temple. Much taller than she. A man. Her son. But then she looked again and there was no white streak and the eyes were colder. Raemon smiled and nodded his head before reaching down and pinching her clit through the thin material of the gown she wore, holding and twisting so that she twisted in a kind of pleasure pain, reaching with her arms to find something to hold on to.

Hands were shaking her and a cold voice spoke silkily in her ear.

"With moans like that you better have been dreaming of me Precious."

Jareth pulled her shoulder and rolled her onto her back, seizing her wrists and pinning them above her head. He forced a knee between hers as Sarah blinked up at his face, the dream receding as she took in the cold expression she had come to associate with Jareth's worry fuelled anger. Jareth dropped his head and grazed his sharp teeth along her soft cheek.

"You sounded like you were enjoying yourself?" The question was icy and Sarah felt a welcome ripple of fear after the numbness that had held her immobile. She stared wide eyed up at him. "My dear," he sneered and it sounded like a threat, "I thought you should have learned by now that you answer me when I question you. Who do you belong to?"

"You," Sarah whispered feeling herself begin to respond to Jareth's fierce intensity. Jareth nodded his head.

"And what do I do if you forget this?"

"You punish me," Sarah responded wondering what Jareth had in mind, feeling herself grow wet at the prospect of his touch.

"That's right," he crooned into her ear, stroking one hand down her cheek and neck, pinching her hard nipple before twisting painfully. Sarah's body jerked, her mouth opening in a gasp. Jareth took the opportunity and plunged his mouth down on hers, sweeping his tongue though the inside of her mouth, dominating the kiss. He released her nipple and her body slumped back against the bed. She was gasping for breath and as he pulled back he saw a trace of fear in her eyes. He felt himself grow harder. Sarah's eyes watched his hand as he reached into the air and produced his riding crop. He wrapped his arms around her and suddenly they were in the tower room, a place they had not visited for quite a while. Sarah glanced down, realising she was naked. Instinctively she reached to cover herself, despite the fact that Jareth knew her body better than she did. Her hands her slapped away by the swat of the crop. Jareth flicked his eyes to hard chair that stood in the centre of the room and obediently Sarah moved to lie across it, face down. She saw Jareth's booted feet step close to her, heard me raise his arm. Sarah's body jerked as the whip fell, the red welt it left standing out against her pale skin. Jareth raised his arm again, changing the angle slightly so that the second welt formed an X with the first. He smiled at his handy work before stepping back and kicking her ankles apart. He felt rather than saw Sarah shudder at being exposed before him like this, legs spread before his hot gaze. He moved again, changing angle once more before bringing the whip down in a swishing motion to connect with the sensitive skin between her entrance and her puckered opening. A sharp gasp escaped her lips and she fought to close her legs but Jareth stepped between them, blocking the movement. He crouched down and looked at the mark he had made, pulling a glowing light from the air that he might see better. Slowly he drew his finger down to her entrance, holding the light close and observing her reaction. With two fingers he opened her, spreading her wide before his hungry gaze.

Sarah felt acutely embarrassed at this minute examination, despite the fact that Jareth had seen her countless times over the years. This was just so purposeful, so obvious. Jareth tilted his head to see at a better angle, lowering himself to lick a long her slit and drawing back to see the moisture gather. He touched her, drawing the moisture up to her puckered entrance. He leant back and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with his riding crop.

"Sit up," he commanded and shakily Sarah pushed herself back onto her knees. Jareth moved round to face her, placing his hands on either side of her face and resting his forehead against hers. His lips, barely a centimetre from hers, were moving and she could hear his faint whisper of foreign words as he wove tendrils of magic around her. After what seemed like an age he leant back and rose to his feet, his outline slightly blurred as he continued to mutter the strange incantations. And then, as she watched, he stepped out of himself. His took a step forward although his body didn't move and Sarah found herself staring up at two Jareth's standing side by side. The one on the right raised its hands and examined them before turning to the other and taking up the muttering. Again the outline blurred and a third figure of Jareth stepped free.

"Good." Jareth's voice was cold and icy, sounding strange in the stereo effect of all three figures speaking at once.

They turned to Sarah as one, the first crossing to her and kneeling down behind, pulling her back against the firm muscled chest she knew so well. Gently he drew a thick blindfold across her eyes. She sensed movement in front of her and felt Jareth's lips on her own, forcing hers apart, tongue delving into her mouth to duel with her own. The Jareth behind her snaked his arms round her waist, gliding his fingers over her rib cage until the settled over her breasts, teasing and stimulating. Hands under her bum encouraged her to kneel up, while another set of hands forced her knees apart, opening her to whatever he was planning. Sarah turned her head, attempting to re-orientate herself but instead found her lips captured again by Jareth's as he forced the breath from her body in a mind numbing kiss. Hands massaged her breasts, flicked at her clit, wrapped round her back and held her steady as waves of overwhelming sensation threatened to wash her away.

And then there was another shift and she sensed that Jareth was naked, could feel his erection pressing between her cheeks, against her stomach, rubbing against her arm. The Jareth beside her got to his feet and Sarah knew what was coming before it did. She opened her mouth and felt his hardness nudge at her lips. Blindly she reached for his hips, guiding him into her mouth and swirling her tongue round his head, teasing at his slit. She could not hear a sound, could not hear the change in his breathing but felt the other two Jareth's push closer to her, rubbing lightly against her. Hands on her hips held her steady and she felt his head nudging at her entrance. She let her head fall back at the sensation of him stretching her wide in this kneeling position as she leant back in his arms, back resting against his chest, breasts pressed around his medallion. He pushed slowly in, right up to the hilt, and then held steady while his fingers tangled in her hair, pushing himself back into her mouth. He shifted behind her, resting his chin over her shoulder and kissing her neck. Sarah could not hold herself still, squirming at the sensation as he slowly began to push himself into her puckered entrance, her muscles fighting as she consciously tried to relax. Again, he did not stop until he was buried right up to the thick base of his cock. Sarah was frozen, gasping for breath as this complete domination held her where she was, stretching her to capacity from in front and behind, filling her mouth. The blood was pulsing through her so hotly she was sure it would burn him. And still he held still with incredible control, lightly tugging at her hair, telling her to continue using her mouth on him.

With conscious effort to concentrate, Sarah resumed the movements of her head, working with her tongue and taking him deep, swallowing in time with his light thrusts. And then he moved within her, both in front and behind, withdrawing almost to the point of leaving her before slamming back in together, impaling her and causing her eyes to fly open beneath the blindfold. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp and Jareth took the opportunity to thrust himself further down her throat. His hands were massaging her breasts and she was no longer in control of herself as he thrust himself deep within her once more, pinching her clit and squeezing in time to his thrusts. Sarah knew her body was his, completely and utterly as he used her exactly as he wanted, and gave her more pleasure than she could possibly have imagined, while submitting to his complete dominion. She felt the tightness coiling in her stomach, building and reaching a crescendo. But just as it was about to release Jareth withdrew completely, leaving her kneeling on the ground and completely bereft. Her body felt cold as the sweat cooled in the chilly air and she was completely disorientated.

"Stand up." Jareth's voice was cold and cruel. And single. He was one again and the power in his tone was unquestionable.

Her knees were shaking, her body shuddering. But Sarah scrambled unsteadily to her feet, swinging her head to try to locate his whereabouts. She jumped when his voice sounded softly in her ear, cold and cruel.

"I'm here Precious." She heard his soft footfalls as he circled her. "Are you going to beg me? Or shall I just leave you here, cold and unfulfilled?" His voice sounded amused.

Sarah licked her lips, trying to find the words.

"Pl...please Jareth," she stammered.

"What was that Precious?" she felt his hands settle on her waist, he was behind her, pulling her back against him so that she could feel his erection pressing between her cheeks.

"Please don't leave me like this Jareth," Sarah whispered, dropping her head in shame.

His lips closed over her pulse point, sucking so that she knew he would leave a mark. His fingers traced the faded silver scar of his medallion where it lay on her chest, nails lightly scraping between her breasts.

"Well," he whispered softly in her ear, "since you asked so nicely..."

He thrust her forward so that she stumbled and fell, the wood of the chair breaking her fall and bending her forwards once more. Without warning her thrust into her entrance from behind, setting a punishing rhythm, pulling her head back by the hair so he could sink his teeth into the crook of her neck. Sarah gasped in pain and as she did so Jareth reached round, pinching her clit, pressing and twisting, releasing a burst of extreme pleasure pain that was Sarah's undoing. Her finger nails scrambled at the smooth wood of the chair legs and her eyes rolled back into her head as she rode out the waves of extreme orgasm. Dimly, somewhere far away she could feel Jareth thrust twice more before he too released, collapsing against her and wrapping his arms round her waist protectively.

When at last Sarah opened her eyes she was back in their bed chamber, Jareth's body pressed closely to hers. His arms were tight round her waist and his face, where it lay on the pillow just above hers, was smooth in the depths of sleep. He looked drained, the complicated magic he had performed and the violence of the sex having taken its toll on his worry ridden body. But for now he looked peaceful. Sarah wrapped her arms round his narrow waist, settling her head into the hollow of his neck so that she could breath in his scent, his mussed up blond hair falling across her face as she drifted off into sleep.

It was perhaps four hours later, the sun streaming in through the chamber window that Jareth and Sarah were awakened by the door crashing open and Rath's panicked voice reverberating round the room as their twelve year old son rushed to wake them. Jareth's eyes snapped open, his hears filled with the scared shouting and saw Rath shaking Sarah, while Nathaniel stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, cool and arrogant and so like himself. Jareth sat up and pushed Rath's hands away from Sarah, using his body to protect her from the onslaught, although by now she was well awake. Rath stared at his father fearfully, falling silent under Jareth's commanding gaze.

"Now," Jareth spoke calmly, "what would appear to be the problem?"

Rath's eyes filled with tears.

"It's...it's...Ph...Ph...Phoenix," he stammered as his lip wobbled and he crawled himself into Sarah's outstretched arms, curling up in the safety of his mother's protection. Jareth had tensed himself at Rath's words, worry coursing through him once more, but for the benefit of his son's he made himself remain calm.

"What about Phoenix?" he asked slightly more sharply than he had intended, unable entirely to keep the fear from his voice. Nathaniel pushed himself off the door frame, his arms hanging loose by his side, two fingers caressing the sheath of is sword where it already hung by his side. He was fully dressed, Jareth noticed, while Rath only wore the soft trousers he slept in.

"It would appear, Father," Nathaniel said in a voice that bordered on the disinterested, "that Phoenix has vanished." Sarah gripped Jareth's hand fiercely. "Apparently Rath was seen by one of the goblins leading her out of the castle by the hand."

"It's not...it's not true..." Rath sobbed as Sarah looked sharply down at him. Jareth did not say a word but when Sarah looked at him his eyes were shut and he was muttering quickly under his breath. He looked up and his eyes were filled with cold ice.

"Stay here," he commanded as he rose and turned on his heel, dressing himself in the imposing black outfit that Sarah had not seen since That Day. He fixed his glare on each one in turn, Rath sobbing against Sarah's shoulder, Sarah panic stricken and clutching her son, Nathaniel lifting his head and meeting his eyes as though an equal. "Do not do anything stupid," he said coldly.

In the split second he vanished Nathaniel raised his hand and there was a bang. "Tell me what you are doing," he cried in as strong a voice as his twelve years would allow.

And all at once Jareth was storming towards Nathaniel and Nathaniel was shrinking away from the cold, deadly fury in his father's eyes. Nathaniel raised his hand, concentration on his face as he summoned his magic but Jareth was too quick. Nathaniel's body smacked against the wall, his head cracking off the stone as he was pinned six feet above the ground, spread-eagled just as Sarah had seen Jareth do to Raemon all those years ago. Rath stopped breathing as he stared fearfully at his father advancing on his twin, and Sarah wrapped her arms tighter round him, fighting the motherly urge to out herself between Jareth and Nathaniel, knowing that at this moment Phoenix was more important.

Jareth stared up at his son. His voice held iced fury. "Never try to block my magic. Do you hear me?" he said coldly. "NEVER," he bellowed and he lifted his hand slightly so that Nathaniel slid down the wall to hang with his feet about a foot off the ground, eyes level with Jareth's own. Jareth advanced, invading Nathaniel's space, coming so close that when he next spoke his voice was barely above a whisper, but the threat was still apparent. "I am a thousand times more powerful than you and you would do well to remember it. You are arrogant and self important and you bully your brother. If I had the time I would deal with you now, but at present your _sister_'s need is infinitely more pressing. Do you understand me?"

Nathaniel stared defiantly back, raising his chin slightly and meeting Jareth's gaze.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" Jareth bellowed and Sarah and Rath both jumped.

Nathaniel stared for a few more seconds and then lowered his eyes.

"Yes Father," he muttered and Jareth jerked his hand away so that Nathaniel fell free of the wall. Jareth raised his arms and held his son upright, gripping his shoulders tightly. He rested his forehead against that of his son for the barest of moments, eyes shut before he jerked back and looked intently into his eyes. Nathaniel met his gaze and nodded once and Jareth leant forward and kissed on the forehead. He turned to Sarah and Rath raising a finger to point at them.

"Nothing stupid," he warned and then he spun once more and was gone.

**So what do you think? Please let me know becuase I love reviews. Lots of love to all readers and especially those who have reviewed! FY.A xxx**


	44. Chapter 44

**Hey hey! Things are hotting up aain and these chapters are getting really har to write...but it has to be done. Thanks for your reviews, and to those of you who didn't, I hope you enjoyed the story. Please keep reading cos we're not done yet!**

**Lots of love FY.A xxx**

Jareth floated silently through the still air of the summer Labyrinth, senses finely tuned for the faintest vibration of anything out of the ordinary. But all seemed tranquil. All seemed peaceful. He turned over Nathaniel's words in his head. The goblins had seen Rath leading Phoenix from the house, and she had not been seen since. But that did not make any sense at all. Why would Rath lead Phoenix from the castle? Jareth knew that Rath was devoted to his sister, idolised her even. It was Phoenix who gave Rath comfort when Nathaniel picked on him. Rath could never hurt his sister, Jareth knew this. He shook his head in frustration, trying to clear the worry that fogged his brain, let his magic reach out and feel.

Something tugged at the corner of his mind and Jareth's head swivelled sharply trying to catch the impression again. Nothing. He sighed. Probably just some goblin. He banked gently, sweeping over an old sandstone wall and surveying the hedge maze that stretched out beneath him. No. No-one would take a captive here. He wheeled in the air again turning back towards the granite cave maze, a much better place for hiding. And as he did so something caught at his mind again. Louder and clearer than before. A call. A cry.

"_Daddy._"

Phoenix.

But even as Jareth soared upwards towards the cliff edges that topped the caves he heard the taunting reply float back to him.

"_Daddy can't help you now, little girl. You are ours."_

Jareth cursed and spun again as he realised that the voices were suddenly behind him. How had that happened? And why where the speaking through minds? Jareth was worried, knowing that Phoenix had never shown any ability to speak with her mind before, so why wasn't she shouting? All at once Jareth was swept away in a wave of strong revulsion that he knew was not his. Mingled with it was a deep rooted fear that froze his spine and stiffened his wings as he craned his neck to catch hold of the thought strand once more. But when he found it, he wished he hadn't. It wasn't a thought, but an image, playing before his eyes and steeling into his heart in a way that he recognised, that reminded him of his childhood.

The vision was from the point of view of one standing off and slightly to one side and Jareth had the strong impression he was looking through the eyes of another. Phoenix was kneeling on the stone flagged floor, her light summer night dress clinging to her fear sweated body. The front of the gown was ripped and hung open, exposing the soft curve of one of her childish breasts. There were stains of blood on her gown and chin and for a moment Jareth could not make out where they came from. And then he caught sight of her hands that were bound in front of her, the fingertips black and raw, blood oozing from where her nails had once been.

As if on cue Phoenix' captor stretched out his own hands as though examining them. They where scored with deep and angry welts that ran up his arms and dripped black droplets onto the flagstones. The man was a fae.

Jareth felt a wave of uncontrollable anger sweep through his being at the sight of his daughter thus bound and held. But with it was pride. She had fought at least. And paid the price. Jareth stretched his wings wide and circled round. What his enemy had failed to realise was that Jareth would recognise the room. He knew where to find them now. He blinked his large owl eyes and as he did so another image took control of him. A cold voice was speaking.

"_Your Daddy is angry. He is looking for you. But let's make him despair, for he can never find you in time._"

Jareth felt a chill run through his body as he recognised the voice, but Phoenix was looking up, eyes blazing into those of her captor with a look that reminded Jareth passionately of her mother. When Phoenix spoke her voice was strong and clear.

"_Do what you like, you can never break me. My father is stronger than you and far more imposing. He is like the Labyrinth, warm and gentle and hard and unforgiving and he will break you. Because he holds the power."_

Jareth felt his heart swelling with pride for his daughter, but was snapped back to reality quickly as the cold anger sounded from the other man. He was sneering.

"_Your Daddy is worthless, a cheater. And we will show him what happens to cheaters. But you, you are insolent. You need your mouth stopped up. And I know exactly how to do that."_

Jareth fought the vision and beat his wings harder as the fae began to undo the fastenings of his breeches, stepping silently towards Phoenix, slipping his hand down to rub himself lightly. Jareth saw Phoenix' eyes open wide in horror as the man approached her. And as he seized her hair, forcing her head back, he looked up into the cracked glass of the mirror that hung on the wall behind Phoenix' head, and Jareth found himself staring back into the eyes of one he thought he had said goodbye to for good.

Raemon met his eyes and smiled cruelly, glancing down at the shaking form of Jareth's daughter. Jareth wrenched himself from the vision, Phoenix' scream ringing in his ears.

And all at once there was a clamouring in his head as three more voices assaulted his senses.

"_Jareth!"_

"_Father!"_

"_Dad!"_

"_I know,"_ Jareth replied to all three, _"I've nearly found her."_

Jareth pulled out of their heads and began building a defence against the assault on his mind, knowing he would need it if he was to rescue Phoenix. He rose higher into the air, beating his wings and catching at the air currents, anything to get him to Phoenix' side quickly.

Sarah paced the tower room which she shared with Jareth like a caged animal. Her daughter was out there. She needed to get to her. She pressed her fingers into her temples and concentrated hard, reaching for Jareth.

"Damn him," she exclaimed as her mind came into contact with his shield, its power sizzling through her mind and reverberating to her finger tips. "Damn him, I can't contact your father."

She whirled round looking accusatorily at her twin sons, Rath with his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder as he stood tall and proud. Nathaniel's eyes were shut and he was muttering to himself, his fingers twisting the Labyrinthian ring he wore on his right hand. Sarah strode up to him and pulled his hand away.

"You, young man can just keep yourself out of trouble and not interfere anymore," she commanded, drawing herself up in an attempt to assert authority. But as Nathaniel's mismatched eyes flashed open and he fixed his mother with a withering stare, so like his father, Sarah realised that he stood nearly as tall as she, and that she no longer held the power.

"Let me do this, Mother," Nathaniel said holding her gaze," we need to help Father, and I can find out where they are."

Sarah looked hard into his eyes before replying.

"You can truly find them?" Sarah asked. Nathaniel nodded. "And you promise to take me to Phoenix and your father and then leave and return to safety?" Nathaniel paused a moment, a clear battle going on behind his eyes. Eventually he nodded and Rath's grip tightened on his shoulder. Sarah nodded her head and released his arm.

Nathaniel shut his eyes once more, removing his ring and bringing it against his lips as he resumed muttering under his breath. Sarah held her breath, willing her son on as his face began to drain of colour and his head snaked back and forth. His fingers tightened on the curve of metal and rich black began to leak between them, staining his lips.

"Break...sneak...through...the shields," Nathaniel panted as the sweat beaded on his forehead and his clenched knuckles turned white. "Can't...see... Rath, help."

Sarah started forward but Rath was there first, gripping Nathaniel's forearms and resting his head against that of his brother. Rath's eyes shut too and as Sarah watched the room filled with raw and unguarded magic. Sarah took another step forward and all of a sudden she knew what was happening. Rath's face was draining of colour as he fed his potential power to Nathaniel who, struggling to control it, was adding it to his own. Sarah knew they must be seeking for Jareth's shield, and that Jareth himself must be now deep within the defences of the enemy. She shuddered silently as Nathaniel's breathing altered once more.

"Can't...quite...see...aahh...there it is. I can see it. I know where Father is!"

His eyes snapped open, burning bright as though with a fever. Rath stepped back and turned to his mother and a lump caught in her throat. Rath's expression was more alive than she had ever seen it before. He was glowing with vitality and the excitement of potential. On impulse Sarah swept him up in her arms, looking over his shoulder at Nathaniel.

"Well done boys," she said. She held Rath at arm's length. "Get everything ready for your sister's return," she told him before returning to Nathaniel. "Now, let's go." She took a step towards her elder son but stopped as he shook his head, holding up his palm so that she encountered an invisible force field. "What?" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Mother," Nathaniel's voice did hold true regret.

He raised his hand, and Sarah felt herself slide backwards, pushed by an invisible force originating from Nathaniel's palm. Her legs hit the edge of the bed ad she collapsed backwards. Immediately the bed clothes came to life, folding themselves tightly round her until she could hardly move. She glared up angrily at her sons.

"Rath. Help me out!" she commanded but he shook his head wordlessly.

Nathaniel shut his eyes tight, remembering again the feeling as his father had lifted his hand and he slid down the wall, his father's arms tight around him, his father's forehead pressed to his. And his father's words echoing in his head.

"_Nathaniel I need you to trust me now and I need to be able to trust you. I want you to look after your mother. Don't let her do anything stupid...I couldn't bear to lose her again. You are in charge."_

Nathaniel could still see the searching look on his father's face as he had drawn away, feel the small nod he himself had given in understanding. He hoped with all his heart he was doing the right thing.

"I'm sorry Mother," he said again.

Rath reached out and placed his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, looking into his brother's eyes. Together, they nodded slightly. And then they were both gone.


	45. Chapter 45

**OK guys, her is the next chapter and it falls to me to warn you that this comes with a very heavy health warning. Not nice. Pretty horrible really. So you have been warned OK? **

**For those of you that still want to read it...please let me know what you think, and don't give up...there is more to come.**

**Enjoy.**

**FY.A xxx**

Phoenix stared up at the man who looked like an older version of her younger brother. So similar yet so different. This man's face was twisted into a cruel sneer, so unlike Rath's charming smile. And his eyes were crueller, unforgiving as he watched her narrowly. The hand that was fisted in her hair tugged again and she jerked her head back in pain, feeling her throat exposed and vulnerable as she fought to keep him in her line of vision. Her eyes were blurring with the pain but she couldn't stop watching him, the gap in the front of his breeches where his other hand was buried. The occasional glimpse of pink flesh. This, she knew, was what her father had tried to protect her from.

The man withdrew his hand and brought it to Phoenix face and she felt her breath speed up in reflex to the increased fear. He trailed a finger down her neck and she winced away from the damp, slightly sticky touch. His hand tightened in her hair and he crouched down in front of her and brought his face close to hers.

"Don't fight me Phoenix," he whispered and his breath was hot against her cheek and ear. "Deep inside, deep in here," his hand covered the skin above her left breast, "you want this badly. You want to know what your father has hidden from you." Phoenix stared at him fearfully. "Nod your head like a good little girl Phoenix," the man commanded. She gritted her teeth and slowly shook her head. His free hand stung across her cheek in an angered slap and he wrenched at her hair, nodding her head violently as the tears sprang in her eyes. "That's better now. You must learn to behave yourself darling."

The man drew his lips along her stinging cheek, lips parted so that she could feel the graze of his teeth. Phoenix tried to move away but his hand in her hair held her still. His lips pressed against hers, cruel and unforgiving like everything else about him. He pressed her head back into his hand before suddenly drawing back, leaving their lips joined by a string of saliva. Phoenix had a desperate urge to rub her lips, but could not move her hands from where they were chained to a ring in the floor in front of her. Her fear ridden eyes sought Raemon's and her heart rate increased when she saw his dilated pupils, lust darkened. A shudder ran down her spine and she felt suddenly cold. She shut her eyes, wishing for her father's arms, warm and comforting around her, keeping her safe. She flinched as his finger touched against her lip.

"So sweet," the man whispered. "So tender. Just like your mother when your father first enticed her from her home world. So young." His finger travelled downwards. "Let me see how you comapare."

His hand closed over her small, budding breast, kneading the flesh. Phoenix began to struggle harder, some instinct telling her that this was very wrong. His hand tugged her head back once ore so that she thrust her chest towards him in reflex.

"See darling, you do want this," Raemon sneered before his lips crashed down over hers once more.

The man's fingers pinched Phoenix tender young nipple hard, grinding and twisting so that she gasped in pain. As she opened her mouth he thrust his tongue through her teeth to sweep round, tasting her youthfulness. Phoenix bit down hard on his tongue. Raemon jerked away.

"Bitch!" he shouted jumping to his feet and seizing her hair with both hands. In one fluid movement he brought his knee up into her face so hard that Phoenix felt her teeth crack loose. The man shoved her to the ground, staring at her. Phoenix rolled over and spat blood and fragments of tooth onto the smooth flagstones, sobs wracking her shaking body. But then his hands were in her hair again, yanking her into a kneeling position as he stood before her and she could see his penis, hard and erect, bobbing in front of her face. Her lips were slick with blood as he pushed himself into her mouth, tugging her head back and forth by the hair so violently that her forehead banged against his pubic bone.

"Suck," he ground out and to Phoenix his voice sounded hard and laboured. His fingers caught her ear, twisting until she carried out his instruction as he moved her where he wanted her, his head rolling back and his breath coming in sharp gasps as he moved her head faster and faster. And then he was pulsing and his hot sticky essence was filling her mouth and Phoenix was gagging as he continued to pump into her, his tip hitting the back of her throat and his hands twisting painfully in her hair.

And then it was over and he released her, shoving her down hard against the cold stone floor. Phoenix wretched and spat, trying to clear her mouth and throat of the sticky substance that mixed with her own blood. The man stood and watched her for some moments before crouching down in front of her once more.

"I am your King," he said. "Who am I?"

"You are evil," Phoenix spat back and flecks of blood and semen splattered across his face.

The man snarled, his face twisting into a mask that epitomised all things vile. He lunged forward, seizing the front of her and ripping it forwards, exposing her breasts and the childish, downy hair at the apex of her legs. Phoenix fought to cover herself but the man's strength greatly overwhelmed her as he forced her down on her back, one hand pressing into her hip as he held her to the floor. Her legs thrashed as his teeth sank into her soft breast, worrying at the skin until he tasted blood. The hand on her hip slid down between her legs, one finger pressing into her secret place, tight and sore as it forced its way in. Phoenix kicked against the invasion but he covered her body with his so that his weight held her still. He added a second finger and then a third, driving them forcefully into her so that she felt something stretch and break, pain urging her to draw her legs up to her chest. His teeth grazed against breast once more, his words muffled against her skin.

"So warm...so young...and...so...very... ... ...mine."

And then there was noise, and light, and confusion, and Phoenix head was reeling, her eyes unfocussed as a figure swathed in light flashed into existence with the sound of a gunshot. The man on top of her was blasted away and air flooded into her crushed lungs. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and all she could see was blackness.

Nathaniel and Rath were trapped in the darkness of nothing, bodies pressed tightly together, spinning and reeling. Nathaniel was fighting for control, gripping his brother in a vice like grip for fear of losing him in the space between the worlds. But something was fighting him, tugging at his resolve. Itching its way into his mind and clouding the picture of their destination. Nathaniel's brain felt fogged. He needed out. Why was it taking so long? It should be instant. Air was burning in his lungs and he needed to exhale but the vacuum was too tight, too restricted, too claustrophobic. Rath was writhing against him, also unable to breathe and starting to panic, tendrils of nausea becoming waves in his oxygen deprived brain. But Nathaniel could no longer see it. Could no longer remember where they were going. Or why. And so he did the only thing possible. He called to the Labyrinth. And all at once she was there. She was in his mind, calm and cooling like the voice of an old friend. So this was what his father heard all the time. No wonder he was in control. And powerful. And...cruel. For the feeling was not kind but inspiring, commanding, all encompassing. He knew there were words too, but he could not grasp them as they floated outside his range of knowledge at the edges of his mind. But he knew what they meant.

"_Let go. Surrender. I have got you._"

And as Nathaniel abandoned the fight with his last thread of strength, he felt himself torn from Rath's grasp, his fingers unable to hold on to his brother's tunic any longer.

The twins hit the ground together, the soft grass cushioning their fall as they sucked air into their lungs and blinked in the bright daylight. Rath was the first to sit up, shaking his head to clear the fog he narrowed his eyes against the sun's brilliance. He tugged on Nathaniel's sleeve and Nathaniel rolled over, panting hard and pressing is face into the grass. His arms were shaking as he tried to push himself up.

"Father's not here Nath," Rath whispered as he looked about at the lush grass that ran smoothly over the many mounds that filled the meadow like clearing.

Nathaniel shook his head. "Couldn't control it...sorry," he panted. "Where are we?"

"Don't know. Looks like some sort of field. But it's filled with mounds of earth." Rath got to his feet and scampered across to the nearest mound, running around and over it like an excited puppy before coming across the sealed entrance that housed the inscription. He stared at it frowning, lips moving as he read the words. "Nath?" he called.

"What?"

"Nath they're...graves."

"What?"

"Come and see."

Nathaniel climbed slowly to his feet and stumbled across to where Rath was standing. Set into the mound was a pair of heavy stone shutters, stamped across with a seal that Nathaniel recognised as the shape of his father's medallion. Beneath it was an inscription.

Desentio Amilinius

Amrit

All Powerful, Well Loved, Much Missed

A Victim of Time

Nathaniel read this, bewilderment growing. He shut his eyes and grasped his ring firmly, reaching for the Labyrinth.

"_Where are we?"_

"_Where you were always meant to come."_

"_I don't understand."_

But the Labyrinth was silent. After all, her affinity was with Jareth and while she may indulge his son from time to time, she was not bound to him. Nathaniel shook his head and reached for Rath's hand, linking his fingers through his brother's and squeezing tightly.

"Nath?"

"Yes?"

"Are you scared?" Rath's voice was not timorous, but kind, sympathetic. For once he was the strong one. Nathaniel nodded his head once, before moving forward, further into the sea of grassy mounds.

"Let's look round a bit," he said, "since we're here."

Sarah's voice was hoarse and her throat hurt. She had screamed for everyone. For Jareth. For Hoggle. For Ludo and Didymus. For the goblins that hid in the castle. But nobody at answered her cries. She was trapped. Alone and helpless. With no-one but her mind for company and right now she didn't want to be dwelling on her thoughts. They only made her more distressed, more anxious. And the harder she struggled, the tighter the bed clothes became. And so she lay still. Forcing every fibre of her body not to thrash in an attempt to reach her children. Phoenix, undergoing such torture that no-one should have to endure, the twins, vanishing to goodness knows where. And Jareth, her husband, the love of her life. Sarah closed her eyes and brought an image of Jareth to the forefront of her mind. She pictured him as he had been when she first met him, all lightening and glitter and smelling of magic and rain. And when she had defeated him, his form crumbling before her, taking refuge in his owl form, the hurt and loss in his eyes. And as he had been only a few nights ago, when he had returned from taking Rath back to bed after his dream that they had all died and he had been left on his own without them, standing in a grassy field. Jareth's eyes as he had looked at Sarah, cold, hard and cruel but warm, soft and gentle. All the feelings of the universe. Those eyes that had seen too much. She thought of how she had reached towards him and he had slid into her embrace. How is lips had stated at her neck as he had run his hands smoothly down her back. How in the moment before he had entered her she had reached for his mind through the connection they shared, and had found only love. A love that had haunted him throughout the centuries. And he had whispered into her mouth.

"I love you."

And Sarah had wrapped her arms round his hard back and held him close as their tears mingled in the happiness of oneness. And when he had finally slid out of her, the sweat cooling on their bodies, they had wrapped their arms round each other and lain looking into each other's eyes.

"Do you remember when I first came here..." Sarah had whispered but Jareth had placed his lips over hers silencing her. When he drew back he had gently shaken his head.

"SShhh, don't spoil the moment."

Sarah had lain until his eyes flickered shut and his breathing had evened out, ghosting across her face. A smile had tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes started to flicker with dream...

Sarah jerked back to reality with a jolt. She had relaxed, thinking about Jareth and as she had let go, so had the covers. She lay perfectly still. So here was the weakness in Nathaniel's magic, the mistake he had made. Only as strong as his opponent. So if is opponent was weak, so was he. If his opponent relaxed, so did his magic. Sarah started to hum, keeping her body loose. Slowly, she began to inch her way out from the blankets that had bound her fast. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up cautiously. She took a deep breath, and then leapt for the door, swining it ioen and slamming it shut behind her. She leant against it panting.

Now what?

Jareth's crystal smashed into the bare stone room creating a burst of light that blinded those already inside. He added to the auror of power that surrounded his body, creating a shield that would protect him from any attack. His eyes pierced through the light and he let out a bellow of rage.

The man Raemon, was lying on top of Phoenix whose nightgown was ripped open all down the front. Although Raemon was twisted round, staring at Jareth in disbelief, Jareth could still see his hand buried between Phoenix legs, fingers deep within her. Jareth raised his hand in anger, but managed to stop himself. He could not risk blasting Raemon away for fear that tearing his fingers from inside her might cause further damage. Jareth shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to get that man away from his daughter.

Raemon sensed his advantage and, smiling, pushed his fingers deeper inside Phoenix so that she squirmed in pain. As she did so her head moved and Jareth saw her face. Her mouth was bleeding heavily and he could still see the strings of semen that she had been unable to wipe away. She seemed to be coming to as her eyes opened and she blinked them confusedly. On reflex she tried to close her legs, and whimpered when she felt herself barred, stretched and invaded. Her eyes focussed on Jareth's and her lips moved in a silent plea.

"_Daddy. Help."_

Jareth stared at his daughter's exposed breasts, the tufty blond triangle of hair, and the place where Raemon's finger's disappeared inside her. He drew a deep breath.

"Get away from her," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Raemon's smile widened.

"Now why would I do that?" he sneered, "when it seems to be the only thing keeping you from blasting me to pieces."

Slowly he lowered his head, keeping his eyes on Jareth's the whole time the he licked his tongue up between Phoenix' breasts. He smiled.

"Tastes so...young," he mused. "Perhaps you should try Jareth? After all, isn't this the age you like them?"

Raemon turned back to Phoenix and twisted his fingers hard inside her. She moaned and tried to roll away but Raemon held her fast, arm pressing against her breasts. And then it came to Jareth. He knew what to do. Much as it hurt him to take his eyes form his daughter her shut his eyes, fingers wrapping round the medallion, squeezing it tight until the metal broke his skin. He opened his eyes, flashing his gaze o Phoenix where she lay staring up at him.

"_Honey, don't move._" He said into her mind and, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Jareth drew a crystal from the air and wrapped his bleeding hand around it, whispering and smoothing over his knuckles. The crystal grew, changing size and shape, elongating. Diamonds glistened between his fingers. Pan's sword.

Jareth took a step forward, willing himself not to miss. Willing Phoenix not to move. Praying that he could do it. He raised the sword and brought it swinging down in an arc. There was a scream and a hiss and a roar. The grinding of steel through bone and Raemon rolled away from Phoenix, his severed hand falling between her knees. Black was pouring from the stump of Raemon's wrist, fluid and twisting with the whisper of thousands of legs. And Raemon was sinking, deflating as the spiders that had filled and moved the effigy of Jareth's cousin spilled over each other in an effort to escape the re-elevated corpse. They swarmed over the floor as Jareth covered his daughter's body with his own to protect her from the scuttling legs and Phoenix clutched at his clothing, the sobs releasing in wave upon wave as reality finally hit her, and she realised what had occurred.

But the torrent of spiders did not stop. They were still coming. Pouring from Raemon's arm as though it were a portal from where-ever they had lain hidden. Jareth could feel them attacking his mind shield, throwing their mental armoury against it with all their might as he fought to withstand it. He glanced down into his daughter's face, swatting away a spider that was creeping up her cheek towards her open mouth. The gaps in her teeth were still bleeding and the blood stained in her hair from Jareth's hand as he wrapped his arms round her head in an attempt to extend his shield to cover her mind as well. And still the spiders were coming. Phoenix eyes were rolling and her head and breath coming in gasps as the spiders assaulted her mind. Jareth increased his shield yet again, feeling his power beginning to ebb with the effort. But despite all this, he suddenly realised that mind attack was not the biggest danger. Soon, they were going to suffocate under the waves of spiders. Rolling over so that Phoenix lay on his chest, higher out the spiders, he raised a hand and crushed the spider that was trying to push its way into his nostril. And still they came, covering his legs, running up his chest as he fought to hold Phoenix clear. And desperately he sought for a solution to this new and terrible danger.


	46. Chapter 46

**Ok everyone. I'm down on my knees and begging for you forgiveness. Summer holidays, suspicious parents, what can I say. But that is no excuse. I'm really really really really sorry! This chapter was really hard to write and I would love it if you reviewed. Again i will emphasise that this is**** not ****the last chapter.**

**Please read and review.**

**I love you all.**

**And I'm sooooooooooooo sorry for the delay.**

**FY.A xxx**

They were crawling into his mouth and nose. He could feel their legs as they scuttled in his throat. And Jareth was gagging and gasping for breath as he wrestled with the chain round Phoenix wrists that kept them fastened to the floor. But his strength was sapping. He could no longer see, black spots filling his vision as he finally wrenched the chain from the rusting bolts that held it to the floor. He thrust Phoenix upwards, towards the light and air, away from the waves of spiders.

"Run," he tried to croak but as he opened his mouth more spiders leapt into his throat, their mental attack seizing on his ability to banish them from his body. Blindly, he staggered to his feet and raised a hand, blue flames hitting the opposite wall, fizzing and dying. Jareth's hand reached for his medallion, fingers wrapping round the warm metal as he sought for the Labyrinth with his mind. The spiders lunged once more, feeding off the telepathic frequency, growing in size and strength.

Jareth fell to his knees. And did the last thing he could think of.

Sarah was running through the castle when it struck her. She was sweating and her mind felt weak. She was having trouble thinking. And this meant that she was now stuck in Jareth's optical illusion, running upstairs and downstairs, lungs burning with the effort. She paused, forcing herself to take a deep breath, although it felt like she was breathing through a pillow, and blinked her eyes. She felt odd, detached and flattened her hand over her chest, feeling her heartbeat jump in a rhythm more akin to fear than exertion. She fought the black spots away from her vision and decided on a new route, setting off and stumbling up the steps in front of her. She fell to her knees, pulling herself towards the doors that she could now see.

But suddenly she couldn't breathe at all. Her mouth was open, gasping but no air could reach her burning lungs. It felt like there was a ball of something lodged in her throat so she could not draw breath. She started to cough and carried on dragging herself blindly forward, something repeating in her head that she must get outside, that it was of paramount importance.

The great double doors to the main steps of the castle swung open and Sarah dragged herself forward, head down as she gritted her teeth in an effort to stay conscious. A figure stepped into the open doorway, staring down at Sarah as she pulled her way laboriously towards the steps. And then it was too much for her as the black took hold of her completely, and Sarah passed out from lack of oxygen.

Phoenix turned in the doorway of the room, looking behind her for her father only to realise that he was not following. Her mind felt fuzzy, as though her brain was trying to talk to her body underwater. None of it really made sense. She ached all over, but the gnawing pain, up inside her where the effigy of Raemon had had his fingers was the worst. It felt like bruising, and it hurt when she walked. And she could feel the trickle of blood that had escaped her running down her leg. Her stomach was heavy with the quantities of blood she had swallowed and as the illusion had broken, the semen in her mouth and throat had also turned to spiders and she could feel them, scuttling inside her and making her wretch. She wondered briefly if she was going to die. But then her father had fallen to his knees, his fire fizzing against the opposite wall and as she watched in horror, he pitched forward into the sea of spiders as they began to swarm over his body. And all at once, she realised it didn't matter if she died right now.

Phoenix ran to her father, ignoring the place by the opposite wall in which a tiny spark of blue flame had taken hold, and was even now licking at the wooden frame of the mirror. Phoenix pushed her fingers into Jareth's mouth and scooped out a handful of spiders, only for more to swarm in in their place. Phoenix tried again but the same thing happened. She wrapped her arms round Jareth's chest and tried to pull him clear, but he was too heavy. And now her own breath was starting to fail as the room filled with magical smoke that bit at her eyes and throat, starting her coughing. She wrapped her arms back round her father, laying her head against his strong, still chest. And she waited for a miracle.

Nathaniel was holding tight on to Rath's hand, walking carefully through the field of graves, head held high. Rath was capering round him, chattering about how they had never seen a graveyard before, and wasn't it cool that you got a whole hill to yourself. Nathaniel was steering them gently towards a bigger mound in the centre of the grave meadow, hoping that at least from here they might be able to get a rough idea where in the Labyrinth they were. The smooth grassy hillock was surrounded by scars in the earth, great patches where the grass would not grow and as they approached, Nathaniel tightened his hand on Rath's.

"Rath," he whispered, "Rath don't touch the bare patches."

Rath nodded his head and pulled his hand from Nathaniel's scampering up the slope to stand on the summit, wind whipping through his black hair so that the blond streak looked like a bolt of lightning.

"Hey Nath," he called down to his brother, "come look at this, it's a clock. Right on top up here. And...eww...I think that's blood."

Rath wrinkled up his nose but leant closer. Nathaniel meanwhile was skirting the base of the mound, looking for the doorway. And when he found it he read the inscription, wondering at the ornate carving. Reverently, he drew his sword and stabbed it downward into the ground. He stepped in front of it to kneel between it and the sealed doorway in an ancient fae tribute of allegiance. Rising to his feet once more he pressed his fingers to the crack in the seal and was astonished to feel a warm draught, like the ghost of breath, whispering from within the tomb.

He turned and reached for his sword, but another hand lay across the hilt. A hand worn and wrinkled with age such as Nathaniel had never seen in his life before. Slowly, he drew his eyes upwards. From the man's other hand hung a watch on a chain, swinging backwards and forwards in a steady pendulum motion and Nathaniel felt his eyes start to blur as he watched the perpetual motion. Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Nathaniel's eyelids flickered and the hand that he had reached out for his sword dropped back to his side. The watch slowly revolved on its chain as it swung backwards and forwards.

And suddenly Nathaniel was awake again. The clock face was weird. Wrong. How could he not have noticed before? At the top, where XIII should have been was XII, and directly opposite was VI, with the other numbers spaced out between them. It was unnatural, this man was taking away an hour from every day. He looked up into the man's eyes fearfully.

Time smiled lazily, though it did not reach his eyes and for a moment Nathaniel saw something else reflected there that scared him more than his own father's blatant fury and cruelty – emptiness. But then it was gone and Nathaniel shook his head wondering if he had imagined it. His wonderings were cut short, however, as Time began to speak and his voice was the sound of dead leaves in the breeze.

"Nathaniel," he said, and the boy stared up into his great, pool eyes. "Nathaniel, do not be afraid. Come and join us."

A figure of a boy about Nathaniel's age rose from the dust at Time's feet. He smiled in a cruel way and reached out his hand, brushing Nathaniel's arm. "Yes," he echoed, "come and play with me."

The boy's hand felt like ice, seeping into his veins and gripping his heart. He tried to pull his arm away but found instead his attention fixed on the boy's lips, where his teeth could be seen to glint. Something black shifted in his mouth, tiny legs scuttling and Nathaniel leant closer, the boy's fetid breath on his face. Time pulled Nathaniel's sword from the ground between them and turned it, offering the hilt back towards Nathaniel.

"Come and join the army of Time Nathaniel. And you will live forever."

Nathaniel felt his hand, as though of its own accord, stretch out, his fingers wrapping themselves round the hilt. Time's smile widened.

"Nath, you are you talking...NATH, NO!"

As Rath appeared at the crest of the mound Nathaniel's head snapped round and suddenly he was free of the spell.

"NO!" he yelled and grabbed for his sword as Time snatched it beyond his reach. Time looked down mockingly at the small boy.

"Do not fight me, little boy," he warned and his voice held nothing but menace as he took a step forward, advancing towards Nathaniel.

Nathaniel raised his hand, sending a wave of power to create a shield before him, scrambling backwards up the hill towards his brother. Time paused and then stepped forward once more, the air rippling around him as he dissolved Nathaniel's shield. Nathaniel stumbled back and tripped, falling heavily onto his back, feet scrabbling desperately at the smooth grass. Time advanced another step, smiling as he extended a hand, as though to help Nathaniel to his feet. The small boy shied away, Time's fingers within millimetres of his face.

"NO!"

And Rath was running down towards his brother. He knocked Time's hand out of the way, stepping between the old man and his twin.

"If you want him, you have to get past me first." Rath's voice was steady and strong. He glared up through his mass of dark fringe, blue eyes burning into Time's. Time stared back at him for a full minute, the watch swinging gently in his out stretched hand. His lips parted.

And then, slowly, dryly, Time began to laugh.

With his laugh came the wind, swirling into the meadow and whipping the dust up into the air, solidifying it. Out of the wind stepped Time's army of the dead. Slowly, they began to advance once more, circling the mound on which Nathaniel and Rath were. Time reached out his hand again.

"I SAID NO!" Rath cried again and raised his hand as though in self defence. As he did so, flames burst from the grass in the meadow and the dad army began, with one voice, to scream. Time's hand stopped in mid-air as though encountering a solid wall. His eyes met Rath's in shock. Then he smiled again.

"So the weakling has some power after all," he murmured. He extended a hand, running it along the obstruction.

Rath turned to Nathaniel and grabbed his hand, hauling him to his feet. His eyes were bright with excitement. "Nath, come on. Up the hill. Now. Before he breaks the wall. Nath did you see? I did proper magic."

Nathaniel nodded his head, smiling briefly, but his expression soon turned to worry. "Rath, we have to fight. If the take this tomb then they take the Underground. I saw whose it was. Rath, this is Pan's tomb."

Behind them was a noise like shattering glass as Time smote his watch against Rath's invisible barrier.

"Run!" shouted Nathaniel and grabbed his brother's hand again, pulling him up the sloped edge of the tomb. The screaming in the air was deafening as Time's army burned in the magical flames and Rath twisted as he ran, flicking his fingers in their direction so that the separate fires grew and joined. Soon the whole mound was surrounded by a ring of flame.

And then suddenly, out of the fire came an arrow, fired straight and true, its tip glowing in the heat. Nathaniel just saw it in time, raising his hand so that the second before it hit him it became a useless scrap of silk. He caught the material in the hand not clutching Rath's and knotted it into a shape, breathing lightly over it as it came to life. The falcon spiralled into the air, shrieking before plunging down towards the Time, deadly talons outstretched. He turned and continued running, so that he did not see the bird pull out of the dive, or settle gently on Time's shoulder.

Panting, the brothers reached the top of the mound. The heat was burning their faces, sweat streaking the soot that was gathering on their skin. As one, they turned on the spot looking for a weakness in the wall of flaming army which was still inexorably moving forwards.

"On three," Nathaniel called as they turned back to back on top of Pan's tomb. "One, two, three!"

Both boys raised their hands, sending waves of energy towards the oncoming forces. Those on Nathaniel's side fell back slightly, while those on Rath's stumbled a little, before raising their heads and pushing on. And then again came a hail of arrows, their iron tips gleaming in the light of the flames. Rath raised his hands upwards and suddenly the twins were being showered by a hail of rose petals.

"Look Nath," shouted Rath gleefully, "look! I'm doing it! I can do magic."

More arrows flew and as Nathaniel brought his other hand up to support the strength of his shield Rath laughed out loud, capering away from Nathaniel as a second wave of deep red petals fell onto the tomb. He turned, his face split into a wide grin.

"See Nath?" he laughed. "I can't wait to tell Daddy! It's like coming alive all over again."

The smile froze on his lips. His head snapped back and he stumbled. He tried to pull himself upright and staggered another few steps.

"Nath," he gasped, "the world is so bright."

"What?" called Nathaniel.

Rath didn't answer. He sank to his knees, smiling.

"Look Nath," he whispered. "Look at the world. Isn't it wonderful."

Nathaniel spun round, knowing something was wrong. Rath was kneeling on the clock face set in the centre of the tomb. He was smiling, his eyes wide and bright and full of love. Nathaniel's world turned into slow motion as he watched his brother reach behind him and pull Time's own sword from between his shoulder blades. Nathaniel didn't notice the army surge forward as his hand dropped to his side. Didn't notice Time's cruel smile as he appeared over the edge of the mound. He didn't see the dark blood that stained his hands as he wrapped his arms round his brother. Neither did he see the deep cracks that appeared in the glass clock face beneath them.

Through the roaring in his ears he heard Rath laughing, "Hey look Nath, the stars have come out in the daytime."

And then the glass broke and they were falling, the glass sealing itself once more above their heads.

Someone was kissing her. She could feel a mouth covering hers and for a moment she wondered who it was. Not Jareth. The lips where rounder and fuller. And then whoever it was exhaled heavily into her mouth and she realised that they were also holding her nose. She struggled to sit up, to get away and the person let her go. She rolled over, nausea overtaking her. She threw up onto the smooth stone of the castle steps.

"Yuck," said a man's voice. "Looks like I stopped just in time. Wouldn't have wanted that in my mouth."

Sarah lay on her face and wrinkled her nose. The accent was a deep and careful American, not like the clipped British she had grown so used to. She rolled over, wiping her mouth and looked up at the man who had just given her mouth to mouth.

He was young she thought as his face swam in and out of focus. Late teens or early twenties with the sort of dirty blond hair that would have been near white in childhood.

"Sarah right?" he asked.

She nodded her head. His eyes were bright blue and large with long fair eyelashes.

"I thought so, but I wasn't sure. Haven't seen you since I was five you see, except photos. You haven't changed much."

Sarah nodded her head again, trying to peice together a sentence in her mind.

"It's this place," she managed finally. "Time doesn't work the same."

"Since you mention this place...Jareth's doss-pad isn't it? Thought I recognised his voice when called me. Not the sort you could easily forget, even from a baby. He said there was some sort of emergency, and then I find myself here. Just looking around, wondering what to do next when you crawl out the castle and stop breathing. So come on sis, what's going on?" Toby's eyes gazed keenly into hers. "What's the matter?" he cried, as Sarah leapt to her feet, her hand against her mouth.

"Jareth, Phoenix, the twins!" she yelled. "They need help!"

Toby held up his hands and backed away.

"Okay," he said. "Slow down. Phoenix and the twins?"

"My children!" Sarah snapped.

"Childr...okay." Toby wiped his hand over his forehead so that his close cropped hair stood on end. "You have children. Yes. Children." He shook his head then looked back at Sarah. "So where are they?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Sarah yelled.

Phoenix lay with her head resting on Jareth's chest, her arms tight round as silent tears leaked from her eyes. She could feel the throbbing pain between her legs and the scuttling feet that were steadily swarming up her body. She closed her eyes as the thick smoke bit the back of her throat and she hugged her father tighter, his nearness comforting her as she prayed for strength in her last few moments. Her head was spinning and she felt sick and dizzy. The floor seemed to be tipping and Jareth's chest rising.

And suddenly Jareth twisted in her arms, coughing and retching so that a ball of spiders was expelled from between his lips. For a moment he leant on his hands panting before looking wildly around for his daughter. His hand closed on her upper arm, fingers gripping so tight that Phoenix knew they would leave bruises. His other hand closed on his medallion and through the smoke Phoenix could see him as he raised it to his face, pressing it tight against his cheek so that the black blood began to run down his neck. His eyes met hers and a brief spark of understanding passed between them. Phoenix raised her hand and pressed her finger against the point of the medallion, gasping as it broke the skin. She wrapped her arms tight round her father's chest and held on for dear life. Jareth gritted his teeth against the pain in his head and the complete exertion he was about to force on his body, the utter abuse of his magic. He shut his eyes tight.

Just before the flames took hold entirely, Jareth and Phoenix vanished from the room.

Toby had backed away. "Look. I didn't ask to come here. I'm only trying to help."

Sarah shook her head in frustration, trying desperately to think where Jareth might be. She closed her eyes and tried to reach him with her mind. Silence.

"I DON'T KNOW," she yelled again. And then more quietly, "I don't know."

She realised she was shaking, tears running down her face at the hopelessness of the situation. There was no Elixsyure to come to her aid this time.

She felt Toby's arms wrap round her and she dug her fingers into the fabric of his Che Guevara teeshirt. She pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder so that the fabric became wet with tears. Toby stroked her hair awkwardly. Behind them there was a crack like a whip.

Sarah tore herself away from Toby and looked toward the noise before sprinting towards the pair that had now appeared at the foot of the castle steps.

Jareth was bent over figure of Phoenix, who was lying exposed on the rough stone of the castle road. What remained of gown was ripped and lay open at the front so that her young body was on full display. Blood was dripping from between her lips as Jareth heaved her into his arms and rose unsteadily to his feet. As Sarah reached them, Toby was staring horror struck from the top of the steps.

"Jareth!" Sarah cried and her lips met his for the briefest of seconds. "Phoenix?" she asked as her hands tugged at her daughters gown, trying to hide her from the view of the world. "Jareth...is she alright? What happened?"

Jareth's eyes met Toby's and he inclined his head. Toby nodded back. He knew this was Jareth's admission of gratitude. But Jareth's eyes were back on Phoenix.

"She is fine. Well, not fine. But she'll live. Unconscious after a rather unorthodox dematerialisation. Keep her warm and quiet until I get back. Don't let the boys see her like this."

Sarah looked up at him wildly. "The boys? But they were with you."

Jareth shook his head, a panicked look filling his eyes. "I left them here with you. I told Nathaniel to make sure you were safe."

Tears were flowing freely down Sarah's face again as she shook her head. "They followed you. Jareth...where are they?"

Jareth drew in his breath sharply at her words. "I must go," he said quickly. "Don't wash her until I return, I will need to mend the damage. Tobias?"

Toby hurried down the steps and took Phoenix' limp form from Jareth's arms. Despite no longer holding the weight of his daughter Jareth felt heavy and tired.

"Bring my boys back to me," Sarah whispered before turning and hurrying into the castle after Toby and Phoenix. Jareth nodded grimly to himself before gritting his teeth once more and turning on the spot. A grey white owl soared into the air, looking down at the Underground, and searching for who knew what.

The darkness was absolute. Nathaniel's eyes could not pick out a single feature of the chamber in which they now found themselves. The silence pressed on his eardrums. Not even the sound of Time's hordes could penetrate the thick layers of stone and turf. He was lying on his back on a stone floor, his arms still tight round Rath, whose body lay diagonally over his chest. He could feel the dampness of Rath's blood as it soaked through his tunic.

Rath's voice sounded thin in the oppressive atmosphere of the tomb.

"Nath? It's very dark."

Nathaniel wriggled one arm free and, concentrating hard, drew a ball of light from the air. He raised it to his lips and blew gently so that it floated up to the stone ceiling. Along one side the tomb ran a ledge, and beside it stood a box, its stone lid askew. A draft seemed to emanate from within its depths. Along the side of the ledge letters were carved in a writing Nathaniel couldn't understand and on the ledge lay a long still form.

Nathaniel shuddered and looked away. He felt Rath's hand shift, rising up to grip his tightly.

"Nath?"

"Yes?"

"Nath it's very cold."

Nathaniel shifted his body from beneath Rath's so that he lay alongside his brother. He wrapped his arms round him and snuggled closer, giving Rath his warmth.

"Better?"

Rath nodded his head. They lay silent for a time, Nathaniel listening closely to Rath's shallow breathing. Then Rath shifted again.

"He's smiling Nath."

"Who?"

"Pan."

Nathaniel lifted himself up to look at the figure stretched out on the ledge.

"No, not there Nath, there." Rath raised a hand slightly and indicated the stone ceiling above them. Nathaniel wrapped his arms back round his brother and held him closer.

"Your light's fading Nath. I don't want to be in the dark." Nathaniel looked up at the globe of light where it burned just as brightly as it had before. Rath murmured, "But it's alright. Because he's still smiling. And...and because you're here."

Nathaniel raised himself up on his elbow and looked down at his brother. Rath's face was pale and the skin round his lips was turning grey. His bright eyes were staring up at the ceiling and his breath was coming in feverish rushes. Nathaniel blinked his eyes rapidly.

"Rath?"

"Mmhhmm?"

"Remember when we were young, and Father would sing to us. If we had a nightmare or something, or just if we needed a hug?"

"Mmhhmm. I liked that."

Nathaniel took a steadying breath so that his voice wouldn't shake. He licked his dry lips. Softly he began to sing.

Brother, you and I,  
Brother, you and I,

Rath was still staring up into the stone work and Nathaniel broke off.

"Sing with me Rath. Look into my eyes and sing with me."

We'll sing our lullaby

Rath joined in, murmuring the words rather than singing. His eyes slightly vacant as he looked into those of his brother.

Hush, my dear,  
Sing sweet and low;  
Baby now to rest will go;  
Hush thee, hush thee,  
Singing soft and low;  
Hush thee, hush, thee,  
Singing soft and low.

Nathaniel paused at the end of the verse, trying in vain to blink back the tears as Rath's eyes drifted back to the ceiling. A tear dripped onto Rath's cheek and he said without moving his eyes,

"Don't cry Nath, it's alright."

Nathaniel shook his head and began the second verse, Rath now barely whispering with him.

Brother, you and I,  
Brother, you and I,  
We'll sing our lullaby.  
Tired blue eyes  
Will gently close;  
Sleepy now the baby grows;

"Sleepy," murmured Rath as his eyes once more found Nathaniel's. "Very sleepy."

Nathaniel was no longer trying to control the tears that fell freely down his cheeks. He lifted a hand and smoothed Rath's black hair from his forehead, just as he had seen his father do when Rath had nightmare.

Hush thee, hush thee,

Rath's eyes where growing vacant and a small smile played round his lips.

Sleep in sweet repose;  
Hush thee, hush thee,

Nathaniel lifted a hand and gently closed Rath's glazing eyes. He wrapped his arms round Rath's chest and buried his face into the fabric of his brother's tunic. Fabric that smelled of Rath and carried his warmth. His body shook and his voice broke as he gasped against his brother's still chest.

Sleep in sweet repose.


	47. Chapter 47

**Ok guys, here is the next chapter. Please let me know what you think, I love reviews. Got to go now because Jareth is chasing me with a pitchfork...he really hates me right now!**

**Lots of love,**

**FY.A xxx**

Jareth landed a few feet inside the band of trees that surrounded the meadow. The heat of the flames burned his skin and dried his eyes so that he had to blink fiercely in order to be able to peer through the smoke. Flames rose and glittered and smoke blurred the heated mass of the screaming army that writhed in pain on the meadow floor. And then the smoke cleared for second and what Jareth saw made his heart stop.

Highlighted against the flames stood two small figures, back to back and surrounded by a halo of light that encompassed the top of the mound upon which they stood. Jareth did not need to ask himself whose tomb it was. Jareth's eyes opened wide and he shouted out a warning as a hail of arrows soared from the flames, their deadly iron tipped points flashing as they seemed to ripple in the heat. His shout was lost in the screams of the army but he felt himself swell with pride as he saw both of his sons raise their hands. A second later they were surrounded by what looked like deep red rain.

The small black haired figure broke away from the other and Jareth just caught what sounded like a shout of excitement over the crackling flames.

A figure crested the brow of the mound.

"No, by Creation's name, no," Jareth whispered.

And then Jareth was running.

Running regardless of the heat that scoured his pale face and the flames that nipped at his clothing. In his haste, all tiredness was forgotten, the need to breathe irrelevant as he saw Time raise his arm, iron sword blade glinting, and throw spinning through the air towards the unprotected back of his younger son, as Rath turned, his face split by a wide grin.

Jareth stumbled to a halt, unable to believe what he was witnessing, all sound blocked from his ears so that world fell silent around him. Nathaniel's hand dropping, Rath staring down at the pint of the sword where it protruded from his chest. Rath reaching behind him and tugging the sword with an effort that contorted his features. Nathaniel catching his brother. The glass giving way as they disappeared from view.

Real time hit him with a wave of fury that sent swathes of flaming figures into an inferno that swept them from his path to the mound, clearing his way as his pain blasted a clear path. Time's eyes met his and he cursed the triumph that he saw there as Time whispered quietly to a bird that sat upon his shoulder.

The falcon took flight, soaring high before turning and plummeting back towards Jareth. He had time to see the glint in its eyes, the razor sharp claws before it struck, going straight for the medallion. Jareth felt sharp claws pierce the skin as hot blood erupted from his chest and he acted instinctively, throwing his weight upwards towards his attacker and spreading his wings so that he could turn in the air, sinking his own claws into the exposed underside of the ferocious bird of prey. The falcon began to shake him, claws gripping his chest, much as it would have down a rabbit but Jareth hung on grimly, his white feathers becoming mottled with red and black. He closed his talons tighter and pulled back towards his body.

The falcon's blood was hot as it swept over him in a deluge of flesh and organs as the falcon's skin finally gave way. They hit the ground together, Jareth lying face down in the ash, one arm underneath himself against the raw skin of his chest, his fingers curling round the metal of the medallion.

Slowly, Jareth began to push himself up collapsing back to the ground as the pointed toe of a black boot connected with his ribs. He rolled over carefully, blinking up at the figure of Time who stood above him.

"My my Jareth," Time sneered, "haven't you come a long way down since we last met?"

Jareth swore and tried once more to clamber to his feet but Time place the end of his scythe in the small of Jareth's back, pinning him to the ground.

"I have to say though Jareth," Time continued conversationally, "I'm surprised you're so worried about staying alive. I'd have thought you'd have been desperate to join that sweet young bride of yours, taken so cruelly, before her time." Time leered down at him. "Where did you bury her, Jareth? I fail to see hers among the graves gathered here...but perhaps that is only right. After all, she was only a hu..."

Jareth was on his feet as Time was blasted backwards from him. His frame was vibrating in anger but the hand he held outstretched was steady as a rock.

"Never," he whispered, "NEVER," and his yell filled the whole graveyard, "say that Sarah is merely a mortal. She beat you. We beat you. She's alive, Time. You do not hold sway here."

Time looked up at Jareth who was surprised to see an amused expression in the old man's eyes. Time moistened his lips.

"Not like your son then," he said with a smile.

And then they were duelling, face to face, the air turning hot around them once more, Jareth carried by the force of his anger, and the fear that what Time said might be true. Crystals appeared in Jareth's hands, turning to snakes and striking at Time's ankles, winding up his legs. But as they came into contact with his flesh they shrivelled and died, falling harmlessly back to the ground. Time struck with his scythe, the dark blade biting into the flesh of Jareth's arm before he seized the shaft and twisted it from Time's grasp, hurling it back at its owner. As it struck Time's chest it shattered, turning into shards of metal that flew back in Jareth's direction before becoming a hail of meteorites that rained down from the sky. As they punched into Jareth's shoulders Time took another step back, darting out a hand and catching one of the falling pieces so that it reformed in his hand and he once more held his scythe.

"You see Jareth," Time panted, "you can't beat me. Not forever. You have to learn to accept me, love me even. Do you think you could do that Jareth?"

Jareth looked at the old man before him. He looked down at his trembling hands. He felt so, unbearably, tired. He looked up into Time's eyes and lowered his arms to his sides and took a step forward, toward where Time stood.

"That's right Jareth. Come and rest. Come and sleep with those you love. Leave this difficult place and the responsibility and the pain. Come with me Jareth."

Jareth took another step forward and reached out his hand towards the old man.

"NEVER!" he screamed and extended his hand fully, a golden stream of light flowing from his palm to land squarely in Time's chest. The broken figure was blasted backwards against the stone doors of Pan's tomb, which cracked beneath the impact. The force of the magic drained Jareth's remaining energy and he crumpled to the ground, raising his head just enough to look into the old man's eyes, watching for his counter attack.

Time's face held only a look of mild surprise and sadness. "No," he whispered, "it...can't...be..."

As though pulled by an invisible force his body slithered backwards across the stone flagged floor, his old withered hands scrabbling useless for purchase. To one side stood a box, its lid askew and a deep chill escaping it. It was towards this that Time was being taken. Jareth watched in horror as, with a snapping of brittle bones, Time disappeared within the depths, and the lid slid straight.

Jareth let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Painfully, he dragged himself to his feet and blinked blood from his eyes. His feet felt like lead as he stumbled to the doorway of the tomb, leaning a hand against the stone pillar as his eyes became accustomed to the dark. He conjured a small crystal, but his fingers were so slippery with sweat and blood that it fell from his grasp and shattered at his feet. He took a deep steadying breath and tried once more. This time he succeeded in creating a small globe light that floated to the stone ceiling and hung there, casting a cold light over the interior of the tomb.

Jareth felt his eyes drawn as though by magnets to the long thin body that lay atop a stone ledge at one side of the tomb. The tanned arms were folded across the strong, muscled chest and the heavy lids were drawn down, covering the drastically mismatched eyes. Pan looked as if he was sleeping, with none of the pallor that usually went with death. Jareth's eyes were drawn down from the ledge to a small bundle that huddled in the angle where the ledge met the floor. It was emitting sharp gasps, as though of pain, its body shaking uncontrollably.

Jareth crouched down in front of Nathaniel, who raised red eyes, filled with pain, to meet his.

"Daddy..." he whispered as his small hands scrabbled at the front of Jareth's torn and bloody shirt. "Daddy..."

"Sshhh," whispered Jareth. "It's over. You're safe."

"B...b...but Daddy," Nathaniel's breath rattled and Jareth pressed him tightly against his chest, willing his son not to say what Jareth knew he had to hear. "Daddy, Rath's dead."


	48. Chapter 48

**Hey! Here is the next chapter. Please stick with me on this one! I love you all. Oh yeah, and please review if you have time.**

**FY.A xxx**

Jareth held Nathaniel even tighter against his chest, relishing the bite of pain caused by the pressure on his open wound. He shut his eyes tight against the world that had corrupted his existence. He concentrated on breathing. On not shaking. On holding on to his son so tightly that he could feel Nathaniel's heart beating against his own chest. Jareth buried his lips in the thick blond hair that crowned Nathaniel's head, breathing in a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of his son.

After what seemed like an age he drew back slightly, his hands resting on Nathaniel's shoulders. The boy's handsome face was streaked with mud and blood, streaking his pallid countenance with stripes where sweat or tears had wiped the grime. Jareth stared down at his son until, reluctantly, Nathaniel brought his gaze to meet that of his father. Looking down into his son's eyes, Jareth felt another lurch of pain in the depths of his stomach. The eyes that stared back at him were no longer the eyes of a twelve year old boy, no longer held a sparkle of mischief. They were no longer the widow to a soul. Instead, looking out of the eyes of Jareth's young son was a fully grown man. A man, who had seen too much, knew too much. And behind the eyes, it was like looking into a brick wall. And what pained Jareth the most was that he had seen those eyes before. Seen them when he looked in the mirror after his father's death. He remembered, as he had splashed his face with cold water the image of his father's head atop the javelin had been printed on the inside of his eyelids, and when he had raised his head, the water running down his face and neck, sending shivers of cold through him as it trickled beneath his shirt, the same, deadened eyes had looked back at him and he had no longer recognised himself.

"Nath," Jareth whispered, "where is he?"

Nathaniel made no move, just stared back at Jareth, expressionless, for what seemed like an age. The, his eyes flickered across to the darkened edge of the tomb, partially hidden by the ledge on which Pan lay. His eyes flicked back to Jareth's. Jareth squeezed his shoulders gently and inclined his head before rising to his feet. Nathaniel curled back into a ball, his vacant eyes following Jareth's movements.

Slowly, Jareth approached the darkened corner, reluctant eyes taking in the impossibly small bundle that lay there. Gently, he crouched down, turning his hand so that a small crystal appeared between his fingers, blowing it into the air to hover dimly over the small body. Rath's eyes were closed, his hair pushed back from his forehead, the white streak matching the bloodless pallor of his white cheeks. One of his hands lay across his chest, covering the place where the sword tip had appeared, the other hand was outstretched at his side, fingers slightly curled as though he had fallen asleep holding hands with a person who had then quietly left. Around him, making the stone flags of the floor sticky was a pool of jet blood. But it was the expression on his face that stopped Jareth's breath and released the tears. Rath's grey, bloodless lips were smiling.

Jareth reached out a trembling hand and traced the line of Rath's jaw. His skin was cooling rapidly and felt waxy to the touch. Jareth interlaced his fingers with those of Rath's outstretched hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger individually. A movement behind him broke his reverie as Nathaniel knelt down beside him. Tenderly Jareth placed Rath's hand over his other one so that it too rested on his chest. He slipped his arm round Nathaniel's narrow shoulders and held him against his side as they both looked down at Rath.

For a long time they knelt at Rath's side and as they did so Jareth began to feel a change. The clinging cold of the tomb began to fade as tendrils of warmth wrapped round his body like the arms of a lover. The warm breath stroked down his chest, soothing the throb of his wound and the ache of his heart. Tender lips kissed away his tears and a thin shaft of sunlight slid through the broken doorway of the tomb.

The Labyrinth had come out of hiding.

The soul of the crept from Pan's mouth where she had hidden when Time came to destroy her. Silently she crept up behind the kneeling figure of her friend and wrapped her arms round him, breathing warmth into his cold limbs. Unconsciously, Jareth rocked back into her embrace as she trailed her fingers down his chest.

"_Jareth,"_ she whispered in his ear, _"Jareth, let him go."_

Carefully, Jareth leant forward and placed a tender kiss on Rath's forehead. For some reason he now knew without a shadow of a doubt that Rath was gone, and that it was meant to be. He was happy where he was and so no-one could bring him back. And Jareth realised this with a dull, aching acceptance.

"We need to release him Nath. He needs to be set free."

At Jareth's soft words Nathaniel twisted to look up into his father's face, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he shook his head vigorously.

"Come Nathaniel, let him be free. You can do it."

Jareth held Nathaniel's shoulders and looked down into his son's eyes. Nathaniel made no response.

"Shall we do it together?" Jareth asked gently.

Slowly, Nathaniel nodded his head. Jareth moved carefully so that he knelt behind Nathaniel, wrapping his left arm round the boy's small waist and holding him gently. Nathaniel seemed to have stopped shaking. Jareth laid the palm of his right hand across the back of Nathaniel's and interlaced their fingers. Slowly he stretched out both their arms so that their hands hovered over Rath's still body. Jareth closed his eyes and concentrated on sending the warmth and love that emanated from the ache in his chest down into the tips of his fingers, feeling it grow in size and heat as his love and loss combined with Nathaniel's to form a glowing crystal ball. Jareth turned their hands so that the crystal sat in their upturned palms, its pure whiteness growing brighter until it flashed and the light was gone. Inside the crystal, turning slowly with the wisps of mist that clouded the glass, was a small figure.

Rath's hair was clean and brushed, his bright blue eyes full of light as he looked at something only he could see. His clothes were clean and fine and one his face was a beautiful smile that spoke of happiness, contentment and excitement.

On the stone floor, Rath's wounds closed, leaving in their place jagged silvery scars. Carefully, Jareth disengaged his hand from Nathaniel's and rolled the crystal up to his finger tips. Together, father and son blew gently, and the crystal began to rise slowly, disappearing through the stone of the tomb roof to join the countless other stars of the Underground night.

Jareth closed his eyes and pressed his medallion against his chest. "Good luck," he whispered, almost under his breath. Nathaniel just knelt in his arms, staring up at the ceiling until Jareth gently disengaged himself and lifted the boy carefully to his feet, where he swayed uncertainly for a few seconds. Jareth raised his right hand again, hovering it over Rath's body and at once his clothes changed. Some people would have looked askance at Jareth's choice but to Jareth's mind only this was fitting to Rath. Instead of his fine court clothes Rath was now wearing his simple, loose fitting tunic and soft breaches, the clothes he could run, and play and smile in. Nathaniel slipped his hand into Jareth's and squeezed it gently. Jareth looked down at his son, crouching so that he could look into the boy's eyes.

"Nath," he said gently, "we need to move him." Jareth raised his hand gently as he saw the panic in Nathaniel's eyes. "We have to. I...I," Jareth's voice broke, "I can't leave my son lying on the stone floor."

Nathaniel's eyes slid away from Jareth's, but not before Jareth had seen the heart wrenching pain that filled them. Nathaniel shook Jareth's hands from his shoulders and crossed to where Rath lay. He knelt down and looked at his brother, reaching out a hand to tough his finger tips to Rath's. He ran his fingers down the groove that led from nose to lip, touching the tip of Rath's nose before running his hands through his brother's thick hair and smoothing it back to its mussed over the eyes state in which Rath liked it. Slowly, he leant forward and kissed Rath's forehead gently. Nathaniel pushed himself back to his feet.

"Ok?" Jareth asked, glad his voice still sounded steady despite the lump tearing at his throat at the sight of one of his sons saying goodbye to the other. Nathaniel nodded his head and Jareth crossed to where Rath lay, slipping a hand beneath his shoulders, and the other beneath his knees. It would have felt wrong to use magic. Rath felt unbearably light, as though his body was merely an imagination, not substantial enough to really be there. Too young to be gone.

As Jareth lifted Rath from the floor his head lolled back, exposing the tender white skin of his neck. Incredibly vulnerable. Jareth shifted his arm slightly so that Rath's head was supported. He stared down into his son's face. When he spoke his voice sounded steel edged with the effort not to break down.

"Nath...I...I don't know what to do...what to do for the best." Nath stared up at his father. "Should we...should we...take him home?"

Nath looked at him silently for perhaps a few more seconds, and then slowly shook his head, stepping forward to lightly brush the bridge of Rath's nose with his finger tip.

"I think you are right...your mother..." Jareth looked round him, pulling Rath closer to his body as though trying to squeeze the life back into him. "Rath," he whispered into the boy's ear, "Rath, where would you like to be?"

Nathaniel leant his cheek against his brother's cold forehead and shut his eyes, reaching out a hand to thread his fingers through Rath's. He opened his eyes and looked up at Jareth before carefully replacing Rath's hand on his chest. Turning, he crossed to where Pan lay and gingerly stretched out his hand. Struggling under the weight of the muscle, he moved Pan's hand off his chest, opening his arm at his side. He looked back at his father and a spark of understanding flew between them. Tenderly, Jareth carried Rath to where Pan lay and placed the small body at the side of Creation's Servant, pillowing his head on the strong upper arm, and laying Pan's hand on Rath's stomach. He stepped back.

Rath lay in the position that he had so often fallen asleep in; although before this it had always been Jareth's arm that wrapped round him. Jareth's eyes filled with tears once more and he took another step back, holding out his hand to Nathaniel. Together, they turned slowly and made their way to the door of the tomb. In the entryway, Jareth turned once more.

"Look after him," he whispered, and his voice broke, the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Quickly, so that he couldn't change his mind, he placed his free hand against the broken seal, healing the cracks so that it once more protected those who lay within.

Gripping Nathaniel's hand tightly he turned slightly on the spot, and father and son vanished from the meadow of graves, leaving behind them only silence and tears.


	49. Chapter 49

**Hey people, here is the next chapter. Was supposed to just be a filler but it turned out rather longer as there seemed to be a lot to get through. Has some very difficult and odd content, so you have been warned. Please let me know what you think.**

**Love you all. FY.A xxx**

Jareth landed them at the gateway to the Goblin City and together he and Nathaniel threaded their way through a series of backstreets until they reached a small wooden door, set in a low stone wall. Glancing over his shoulder Jareth placed his palm against the roughened oak and the door faded from existence in a curl of smoke. Nathaniel was standing next to him, staring at the stone without expression. Jareth seized his arm and pulled him through the archway into the castle grounds.

"Come," Jareth held out his hand to Nathaniel who stared blankly at him, making no move to take his hand. The small boy's face was drawn with fatigue, his grief draining his colour and his hair hanging lank, grey with the dust that clung to the blond strands. He was staring out over the calm waters of the lake. Jareth crouched down in front of him once more. "Nathaniel, I need you to listen to me. We need to get home." Nathaniel's eyes wandered over to Jareth's. "Nath, climb on my back."

Jareth had not carried Nathaniel like this for years. It was Rath who had wanted piggy-backs, while Nathaniel had preferred to act like a grown man. And as Jareth raised himself to his feet he could almost believe that the soft weight was that of another boy, the hands gripping tightly round his neck were those that had gripped there so many times before. But as Jareth closed his eyes and inhaled deeply the illusion was lost. The scent was subtly different and the breath caught on the great lump that had lodged in his throat. Jareth opened his eyes and lowered them to the ground, clenching his jaw as he stepped determinedly forward, one step at a time, back towards his castle.

Sarah knelt beside the bed in which they had laid Phoenix, Toby hovering uselessly in the background. True to Jareth's instructions, they had not touched the teenage girl except to move her into the castle although Sarah had drawn the two halves of Phoenix' night dress closed over her body, much to Toby's relief.

Sarah squeezed her daughter's hand tightly before pushing herself to her feet and hurrying to the window for perhaps the hundredth time since Jareth had left. She scanned the landscape again, but all seemed to still.

"Umm, Sarah?" At Toby's voice Sarah spun round sharply. On the bed Phoenix eyelids were flickering. The fingers on her left hand were twitching. Sarah hurried back to the bed and took hold of that seeking hand firmly.

"Hey Phoenix," she crooned quietly, "hush baby. Mummy's here. I'm here."

Behind her, Toby retreated into the shadows. Phoenix eyes opened, looking dazed and unfocussed as they roamed round the room before settling on Sarah's face. Her lips moved silently and Sarah leant her head down to try and catch the words.

"Mummy," whispered Phoenix, "Mummy."

"Yes love, I'm here."

Suddenly Phoenix eyes opened wide and she clutched Sarah's arm tightly. "Mummy. Where. Is. Daddy?"

Sarah didn't know what to say. She leant forward again. "It's ok honey, don't worry."

"No!" Phoenix screamed. "Daddy! Where is Daddy?"

"He brought you home honey..."

"Umm, Sarah?" Toby's voice interrupted but Sarah ignored him.

"...and he went to get the boys."

Phoenix' eyes were wide as they stared at Toby.

"Sarah?" Toby tried again.

"What?" Sarah snapped, irritated by the interruption.

"Jareth's back."

Sarah was on her feet and running to the door before Toby could say anything else. The door slammed shut behind her. Toby looked awkwardly over at where Phoenix lay. Her voice surprised him when she spoke.

"You're Toby, aren't you?" Toby nodded his head. "That was the name I heard Daddy screaming. Not out loud of course. In his head. Just before we passed...Oh God."

Her eyes widened in fright as the memories of what had happened swept back over her. Swiftly, his embarrassment forgotten, Toby crossed to her side and stretched out a hand to her. Phoenix flinched away, horror in her eyes.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, pulling her nightgown closer round her body. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong..." Phoenix' eyes rolled back into her head, her body going limp as her mind sought to protect her from the full horror of what had happened. Toby stared down at her horror struck, before bending down to place his ear next to her mouth. Her shallow breaths fluttered across his cheek and Toby sat back, relieved. Quietly, he moved from Phoenix' side to sit on a small wooden chair against the wall, watching the still body on the bed intently.

Jareth trudged across the lawn towards the steps to the castle door. Nathaniel's head rested on his shoulder, the boy's sleeping breath tickling against the side of his neck, his heart beating against his shoulder blade.

There was a bang and Jareth's head jerked up sharply, causing Nathaniel to slip sideways, his loosened grip almost allowing him to fall had Jareth not caught him just in time. The doors of the castle had flown open and Sarah was running down the steps towards them. Jareth lowered Nathaniel gently to his feet, the small boy blinking and staring at the grass.

Sarah hit Jareth like a whirlwind, flinging herself at his body so that his balance rocked and he nearly lost his footing. Her fingers scrabbled at his back in a brief hug before she turned and swept Nathaniel off his feet, seemingly not to notice his lack of response, the limpness of his limbs. She dropped him back to his feet and he subsided to the ground, leaning against his father's leg, finger tips tracing patterns on his ankle.

"Jareth! Nathaniel!" Sarah exclaimed. "But...but where's Rath?"

She spun around as though expecting to see him standing behind her. Jareth merely stood there, waiting until her eyes locked back to his.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head as though this would negate what Jareth had not said. "No."

And then she launched herself forward onto Jareth once again, her open palm connecting with Jareth's cheek so hard that his head snapped to the side and he stumbled backwards. Nathaniel fell sideways onto the grass, not bothering to pick himself up, just staring at the blades in front of his eyes as his mother screamed again behind him.

"NO!" Sarah's fists pummelled into Jareth's chest, becoming coated in his thick blood as she reopened the wound inflicted by the falcon. Jareth's strong arms wrapped round her back, holding her tightly to him as her blows became weaker and weaker. But still Jareth felt the need to say it and he fought the sickness rising in his stomach as he buried his lips in Sarah's hair and mumbled against her scalp.

"He didn't make it Sarah. I'm so sorry."

And the dam of strength broke so that now he was really crying. Tears flooding down his face as he clung to his wife for support while waves of weariness threatened to engulf him. It was Sarah who began to pull herself together first as she drew a deep breath into her shaking body, her voice stumbling over the words.

"N...N...Nathaniel."

Jareth reluctantly released his arms from round her, and looked down at where his son lay on the grass. His eyes were open but his expression was vacant, arms wrapped round his body as though trying to hold in his emotions, knees drawn up to his chest. Sarah knelt down behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Nathaniel did not react. Sarah looked up at Jareth.

"Did he see it?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears once more.

Jareth nodded his head, closing his own eyes against the pain in his wife's.

"He was with him."

Sarah stroked her finger down the side of Nathaniel's neck.

"Come on Nathaniel," she whispered quietly, "let's get back up to the castle. Then everything will be alright."

There was a loud crack and Nathaniel was on his feet as Sarah was catapulted backwards as though having received a powerful electric shock. Nathaniel stared down at her for a second, before turning and sprinting away from his parents up the castle steps, the doors crashing behind him.

Jareth looked after him for a moment, before turning and pulling Sarah up into his arms. She clung to him, sobbing against his shoulder. He ran his hands down her back, pressing her body against his, offering her as much warmth and comfort as he could through his pain. He kissed her temple briefly before speaking softly in her ear.

"You have to understand Sarah. Things will never be alright." Her sobbing increased and her fingers gripped his shoulders painfully. He held her for a few moments longer before prying himself away. "We should go after him."

"Wh...wh..what about Phoenix?"

Jareth cursed softly. "Is she awake?" Sarah nodded. "Go to her and hold her tight. Wait for me. I won't be long."

Sarah took a deep breath and pulled herself together.

"Where are you going?"

"To put Nathaniel into a dreamless sleep. He is too tired. And he can't think. And that way we can deal with Phoenix and not have to worry about him. One thing at a time. And Sarah?"

"Yes Jareth?"

"Never forget that I love you."

He turned away from her and strode across the grass into the castle. For a moment Sarah stared after him, before hurriedly following his path back to the main doors.

Sarah re-entered the room to find Toby sitting sheepishly in a chair by the side of Phoenix' bed, his hand clasped tightly in hers. Phoenix' eyes were shut, her head moving on the pillow as she muttered something under her breath. Toby looked up at Sarah with a half smile.

"I don't think she knows it's me," he said softly, glancing down at where Phoenix clutched his hand, "she sort of fainted when she began to remember what happened and sort of grabbed my...Sarah what is it?"

Toby broke off; suddenly noticing Sarah's tear streaked countenance. He rose to his feet quickly and carefully extracted his hand. He wrapped his arms awkwardly round his older sister, as she once more began to shake with tears.

"Rath," she gasped into his shoulder.

"Your son?" Toby queried.

Sarah nodded against his shoulder.

"Is he hurt?" Toby felt Sarah's fingers clutch the front of his T-shirt tightly.

"He...he didn't make it..." she gasped, echoing Jareth's earlier words. She could not bring herself to say that he was dead.

Toby gasped and pulled her closer, stroking her hair tenderly. An unbidden thought entered Sarah's head and she marvelled that this grown young man, who smelled of the city and of Aboveground deodorant, should be the same small boy she had rescued from Jareth's Labyrinth all those years ago. Phoenix stirred again and Sarah broke away, taking Toby's seat at the bedside and gripping Phoenix' hand tightly.

"Are you going to tell her?" Toby asked, his eyes flicking between Sarah and the bed, where Phoenix was clearly waking once more.

Sarah shook her head. "I'm going to wait for Jareth," she whispered.

As though roused by the sound of her father's name, Phoenix' eyes flickered open. "Daddy?" she asked again.

"Yes honey," a voice answered from the doorway and Toby spun round to see Jareth standing framed in the doorway. Phoenix' eyes locked on him and he quickly crossed the room to take his place on the other side of Phoenix, bending close and kissing her forehead. Her arms slipped round his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder.

"Nathaniel?" Sarah whispered, looking at Jareth.

"Asleep," Jareth answered, still smoothing the hair from his daughter's face as he extracted himself from her arms.

Toby shifted uncomfortably behind them, feeling like an onlooker on an intensely private scene. Then Jareth spoke to him without turning his head.

"Tobias. Go down the corridor and turn to the left. Behind the tapestry of the winged horse is an entry to a spiral staircase. Go down it and turn left then right. The third door on the right will lead you to the kitchen. Go there and ask the goblin to commence in making soup. I wager none will feel like more tonight. Go now."

Toby was greatly relieved to be able to leave the room, and pulling the door closed quietly behind him, he walked quickly down the corridor. Just before he turned the corner however he paused, feeling the wrench of his heart as the sound of girl crying reached his ears. He turned quickly and hurried on, trying to make his footsteps block out the noise, trying to get far enough away that that sound of pain would not reach him.

Jareth leant over Phoenix, holding her close until her tears began to subside. At last, she reached up a hand to rub her cheeks dry. Jareth drew back slightly and looked down at her. She was pale, though her cheeks were red and raw from the salt. She looked older and tired and there was still blood round her lips from her missing teeth. She raised her eyes to his.

"Are you...are you sure?" she asked in a small voice.

Jareth nodded his head and fresh tears brimmed into her eyes. "He's sleeping Phoenix, he's not coming back."

With one arm wrapped round his daughter, Jareth reached out his other hand to find Sarah's, as silent tears coursed down her cheeks too. As Phoenix shuddered in his arms, Jareth desperately wished that he could feel, could cry with them. But his body felt numb, purely functional. It was the blood specks on the sheet that caught his eye that finally prompted him into action.

"Phoenix honey, we need to get you sorted out. Heal you."

Phoenix shook her head and pushed him away, staring at him with wide eyes. Her voice was indistinct from crying and her missing teeth.

"I want it to hurt. It helps me understand."

"Understand what honey?" Sarah leant forward, heroically managing a reassuring smile.

"Why I ache."

Phoenix' words cut right to Jareth's heart. But he gently shook his head at her.

"Phoenix, I am going to heal you. If you would prefer, I could send you to sleep. And then you won't know anything about it?"

Phoenix seemed to consider for a moment. "No, I want to know what you're doing."

Her eyes displayed a fear that they would never have shown before her torment. Jareth bowed his head in acknowledgement of her decision. He raised a hand and beckoned into nothing. A basin of warm water materialised by his side. Reaching inside Jareth passed a damp cloth to Sarah, who silently began to wash the blood and dirt from Phoenix face, soothing the scald of the tears. Phoenix shut her eyes and sighed at the feeling. When her face was cleaner, Jareth held up his hand and Sarah stopped.

"In the absence of a healer, my magic is more than enough. However, I lack some of the finesse and training," Jareth paused, considering, "Sarah I will need a picture to work from. Imagine Phoenix smiling at you. Now, place your fingertip to my temple."

Jareth studied the picture Sarah was sending him, tallying it with his own memory of Phoenix' enchanting smile.

"Open your mouth honey," he requested, gently applying pressure to Phoenix' chin. His daughter obligingly parted her lips. Jareth placed his forefinger against one of the bleeding gaps, muttering under his breath as a point of white began to show. Hastily he checked his own and Sarah's memories, halting the growing tooth when it corresponded. Slowly he withdrew his hand and Sarah could not help but notice that his hand was shaking slightly.

"Are you alright?" she asked, taking his trembling hand in hers.

Jareth gave her a thin smile. "Tense," he replied. "I don't want to mess it up for my beautiful daughter. Among other things."

Sarah gave him an understanding smile and moved round the bed to sit next to him. She snaked her arms round his waist and he turned his head slightly, his eyes flickering shut for a moment.

"You are so strong," Sarah whispered in his ear, before kissing him softly on the mouth. "You can do it."

Jareth felt immensely grateful to her as he turned back towards their daughter. Sarah shifted up behind him; her arms still round his waist as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. Her warmth and comfort her balm to Jareth's soul and he carefully applied himself to the task of restoring Phoenix' teeth. One at a time, taking his time. Getting it right.

Finally he ran the tip of his finger over Phoenix perfect teeth and drew a deep breath. Phoenix' eyes opened and she slowly ran her tongue round the inside of her mouth.

"Does it feel right?" Sarah asked anxiously.

"I...I think so." Phoenix nodded her head. "I'm healed now thank you. Is it time for me to sleep?" Phoenix said, hoping that her parents would have forgotten about the other places she was damaged. She didn't want anyone to see. Didn't want anyone to know how dirty she was. Couldn't face anyone ever being anywhere near...there. Ever again. Quickly she closed her eyes, as though hoping to convince her parents that she was now asleep.

"Phoenix honey," Jareth's voice was soft. He had seen the fear in her eyes once more and it hurt him to hurt her more. "Phoenix honey, you're not done yet. You know that." Resignedly, Phoenix opened her eyes. "Would it help if I didn't touch you?" Jareth asked tentatively. "Would it be better if Mummy did it?"

Slowly Phoenix nodded her head.

"Jareth," Sarah began, "you know I can't..."

But Jareth held up a hand to silence her.

"You don't have to. Just a channel so I don't need to touch her."

Sarah nodded her head, not quite sure what Jareth meant but willing, as ever, to trust him. Jareth moved to open Phoenix' nightgown. She struggled away from him, holding the gown closed over her body, fear filling her eyes.

"No," she whimpered and her eyes filled with tears again. "I don't want you to see." She stared up at him through her fringe, shaking her head determinedly. Jareth took a deep, steadying breath.

"Alright Phoenix, we'll see what we can do." Jareth reached into the air once more and pulled out a strip of black material. Slowly he raised it to his eyes and tied it securely round his head. "Would you like to check it Phoenix?" he asked.

Jareth sat perfectly still as Phoenix sat up and raised her hands to his face, only flinching slightly when her fingers cane into contact with his skin. He felt her run her fingers tentatively along the edges of the material, ensuring there were no gaps. After a few moments he heard her lie back down.

"Alright Phoenix," he said as soothingly as possible, "Mummy needs to open your nightgown now. I want you to take my hand," he held his hand out blindly and felt her small fingers wrap round it, "and squeeze it when you're not happy or it hurts. Do you think you can do that?"

Phoenix nodded her head before remembering that her father could not see her.

"Yes," she whispered.

Jareth felt Sarah shift from behind him and heard the sound of rustling material as the torn and tattered nightgown as lifted away. Phoenix' fingers clenched round his for a few a seconds before relaxing slightly. He gave her a reassuring squeeze back. Jareth reached out his free hand and Sarah's fingers quickly interlace with his.

"_I need you to visualise everything you see and think of sending it to me. Send me that picture so that I can see too."_

"_You tricked her!"_ Sarah's voice in his head sounded angry.

"_No,"_ he was quick to admonish her. _"Phoenix knows perfectly well that this is what we would have to do. But if it helps not to have male eyes directly on her..."_

"_Alright,"_ Sarah's voice sounded doubtful.

"_Now Sarah, look at her and send me the image. I need you to concentrate."_

Sarah's fingers tightened on his as Phoenix's had moments earlier. Jareth did not respond but waited in silence. After a few moments something tickled at the edge of his consciousness and he reached out quickly with his mind, trying to seize on to it and bring it in to focus. His daughter's face. Looking scared. Avoiding Sarah's eyes. Instead, looking at where her hand clasped his own. His own fingers looked strange through Sarah's eyes. He took a deep breath.

"_Alright Sarah, I need you to look down slowly. Take your time. Just so that I can see the surface damage."_

Against his back, Jareth felt Sarah take a deep breath and realised that, although Sarah had opened Phoenix' gown, she had not yet looked to see what physical marks were visible. The sight caused Jareth to want to vomit. He fought the seething tide of anger erupting in his stomach at what had been done to his daughter. Forced himself not to run straight to the Aboveground and squeeze the life out of Time yet again. Bruises and scrapes littered Phoenix' narrow ribcage, streaked with dirt. Over one of her childish breasts was clearly imprinted the mark of four fingers and a thumb, each print standing out in angry red and blue against the paleness of her skin. But it was the marks on the other breast that caused Jareth to curse explicitly inside his head and he felt Sarah tense beside him, her hand tightening on his as she heard him. Around the nipple, where the dusky areola should have circled, the skin as red and inflamed, blood oozing from the series of cuts quite definitely caused by teeth – a bite mark.

Phoenix whimpered and Jareth suddenly realised he was squeezing her hand so tight he was crushing her fingers. Hastily, he softened his grip.

Jareth took a deep breath. "_Ok Sarah, touch each one, one at a time. Concentrate on feeling my magic channel from me through you. That's all you need to do. Oh and Sarah? Leave her breasts until we've got the rest. Start with the least traumatic."_

Again Jareth felt Sarah squeeze his hand in acknowledgement. He waited until he saw Sarah's finger lay lightly over a bruise of Phoenix' collarbone, Phoenix wincing away from the contact, before sending his healing magic through Sarah, concentrating as hard as he could on channelling to his daughter. He bit his lip in the effort, the added difficulty of not being able to feel what he was doing increasing the pressure on his already over-tired system. But one by one the wounds began to heal until the only wounds left on her upper body were the deep finger prints and bite marks that covered her breasts.

Sarah reached out a finger and placed it gently against the first of the fingerprints. Phoenix turned her head away, biting her lip and clenching her fingers tightly round Jareth's hand. Immediately he stopped the flow of magic and spoke out loud.

"Sarah, stop." He withdrew his hand from Sarah's so that he could no longer Phoenix face. "What is it Honey? Are you alright?"

The only sound that reached him was a convulsive sob from Phoenix as she pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest. Blindly Jareth leant forward and wrapped his arms round her, cradling her close.

"Ssshhh," he crooned on her ear as he felt Sarah's hand rest between his shoulder blades before moving to untie the blindfold from round his head. He blinked in the sudden bright light and bent his head to kiss the tear form Phoenix' cheek. She turned her head to look at him.

"Daddy..." she whispered, and wrapped her arms round his neck.

Jareth held her, rocking her back and forth as Sarah rose and moved to the other side of the bed.

"Phoenix darling?" Sarah smoothed the hair from Phoenix' face once more. "Phoenix it will be over much quicker if you just let Daddy see. So what I need you to do is be brave girl, hold tight on to me and just let Daddy finish. Do you think you can do that?"

Phoenix nodded her head slowly. Reluctantly, she took her arms from round Jareth and wound them instead round her mother. Sarah gathered Phoenix into her arms as best she could so that Jareth could still get access.

"Ready Honey?" Sarah asked.

Phoenix nodded against her neck, her arms tightening. Jareth's eyes met Sarah's briefly. Jareth dropped his eyes to his daughter's body and extended his hand. Her breast was warm and soft against his fingertips, making him want to recoil from touching his daughter in this way. He forced his mind to concentrate, bleary as it was from grief and tiredness. Swiftly, he healed the damage so that Phoenix' skin was once more smooth and pale.

Jareth shifted further down the bed, hating himself for what he was about to put his daughter through, loathing himself for the need to do it. Gently, he placed one hand under Phoenix' left knee, lifting it and bending it. He reached over and did the same with the other one, opening her to his gaze. Phoenix whimpered and Sarah pulled her closer. Jareth could her Sarah murmuring into her hair, trying to comfort her. Slowly, Jareth lowered his eyes. Bruises marred the insides of her thighs making them appear to be mottled blue. The downy fluff of her public hair seemed to have been burned and her clitoral hood was so inflamed that nothing could be seen within in it apart from a smear of blood. Blood was leaking from her entrance as well, the edges ripped. A long strip of flesh had been torn away, extending up inside her.

Jareth drew a calming breath before setting to work, starting with the bruises on her thighs. He ran his hand over her sparse hair, reducing the singed appearance, but did not try to restore it, having no idea what it had been like before the encounter. He withdrew his hands and flexed his fingers in front of his face, trying to relieve the stiffness that was growing in them, before bringing his fingertips down to rest lightly just above her clitoral hood. Phoenix moaned and instinctively tried to clamp her legs shut but Jareth held them firmly in place as Phoenix' sobbing increased and Sarah shot him a look that clearly said to hurry up. Closing his eyes and surrendering to the feel of his fingertips, Jareth sought out the source of the swelling and sent waves of coolness through his hands, soothing the angry inflammation. As the swelling reduced he was relieved to see that only a nail scratch had caused the blood from her clit itself, and nothing more serious or lasting. He shuddered as he remembered the council's wish to circumcise Sarah when she had first arrived, and knew that he would never have been able to forgive himself if that had happened to Phoenix.

He looked back down. Just one area of damage left to go.

"Phoenix Honey I need you to really brave for me for just another couple of minutes." Jareth paused, wondering how best to phrase the next part. "You've got quite a bad cut which goes inside you. Do you know where I mean?" Phoenix nodded against Sarah's shoulder. "In order to see how bad it is, and to heal it, I am going to have to put two of my fingers inside you as well." Sarah glanced round at Jareth, and he indicated the cut. Sarah nodded her head in understanding.

"Phoenix," Sarah whispered in the girl's ear, "I want you to squeeze me very very tight. Are you ready?"

Phoenix whimpered but nodded her head. Jareth flexed his fingers before bringing them to Phoenix' opening, healing the ragged tearing at the entrance. Phoenix was so tense she was shaking. As Jareth carefully pushed two fingers inside her her whole body rose off the bed in protest at the invasion, her crying becoming louder as Jareth forced his fingers deeper, searching for the furthermost end of the cut. Jareth's fingers were buried almost as deep as they would go when Phoenix suddenly went completely rigid, shuddering in shock, before collapsing in a dead faint, her arms falling from round Sarah's neck. Jareth looked up at Sarah and saw his own relief reflected in her eyes. Hastily, while he did not need to be so gentle, Jareth pushed deeper, finally finding the topmost point of the wound and carefully healing down its entire length. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Jareth removed his fingers, washing them in the basin of water.

Jareth and Sarah looked down at their unconscious daughter.

"Will she remember, do you think?" Sarah asked, her voice full of worry.

"About the healing? Or about the ordeal. Or...about...Rath?" Jareth queried, his voice breaking once more. A wave of tiredness hit him and he swayed on his feet.

"You need to sleep," Sarah stated but Jareth shook his head.

"No. I need to speak to Nathaniel. I...I don't know if you noticed, but he hasn't actually spoken since he told me about Rath."

"He told you? But...but I thought you saw it. I thought you were with him." Jareth shook his head and Sarah buried her face in his chest. "If...if it had to happen, I...I just wish one of us could have been with him."

"He wasn't alone," Jareth's voice held so much pain that Sarah looked up at him, expecting to see it on his face but his expression was blank. "Nathaniel was with him. Which is why I need to speak to him."

But Sarah shook her head firmly. "No, not now. Let the child sleep out his dreamless sleep. At the moment, you need to rest. You're practically dropping. Come. To. Bed. Now." Jareth opened his mouth to protest but Sarah held up her hand. "Please Jareth," and her voice was suddenly full of pleading, "right now I need you too. I need you to hold me. Be near me. Love me. I have just lost my son. Do this for me."

Slowly, Jareth nodded his head. He placed his hands on Sarah's cheeks and kissed her softly on the lips before passing her and placing his fingertips to Phoenix' temples, sending her too into a dreamless sleep. Then he turned and took Sarah's outstretched hand, allowing himself to be lead from the room, back towards his own chamber, stumbling like he was already sleep walking. His body finally giving out on him, after the trauma of all that it had faced that day.

Toby, rounding the corner, was just in time to see Sarah and Jareth enter the door to their chamber. Both looked broken and weary, as though carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. Their loss weighing them down. Sighing, he returned to Phoenix room, pulling the bed covers further up to her chin and taking his place in the chair by her bed once more. Reaching out, he lightly brushed the back of her hand with his, and in her sleep Phoenix twitched, her fingers closing tightly round Toby's hand so that when he woke a few hours later, his head was resting on his crooked arm on the bed, his hand still held firmly in Phoenix's.

**Please review and tell me what you think? xxx**


	50. Chapter 50

**Hey guys. Here is the next chapter. I would really appreciate your feedback as this section has not been easy to write. **

**Also, sorry about the depressing dip that the story is in at the moment...it will come out of it, I promise. But we must let the family have their grief.**

**Lots of love,**

**FY.A**

When Sarah awoke, the first grey half-light of the pre-dawn was just beginning to creep its way across the sky. She felt cold and empty and for a few moments she could not remember what had had happened. Jareth's chest pressed against her back and she could his arms clutching her tightly, a faint tremor running through him. Carefully she turned over in his embrace. His open eyes met hers.

"Have you slept?" she asked him softly.

He shook his head, pulling her tighter against him as though scared that if he let go she would vanish from him. As he did so, she could feel him shivering.

"Are you cold?" she asked him, placing her hand against his chest but again he shook his head.

"I'm going to check the children," he said and is voice was flat, emotionless. He leant forward and kissed Sarah briefly on the forehead, before swinging his legs off the bed and crossing to the door. Sarah lay there and watched him go. Without him the bed felt cold, impersonal. Not a place in which comfort could be found. She rolled over and waited for Jareth to return.

Jareth moved quietly down the corridor to the rooms in which his children slept. Softly he pushed open the door of Phoenix' room open and stepped across the threshold. Phoenix was lying on her stomach, her head turned towards the door and her thumb in her mouth, a habit that still showed itself in her sleep, despite her fourteen years. Toby was sitting in the chair at the bedside, leaning forward as his head rested in the crook of his left arm, his mouth slightly open as he slept. Phoenix free arm was stretched out towards him, and as Jareth moved further into the room he could see that her hand was resting on the back of Toby's neck. Toby's right hand rested in the small of Phoenix' back, fingers splayed to the contours of her body, only the thin sheet separating them from skin to skin contact.

Jareth froze in his movement into the room, staring at the scene in front of him. Unbidden, the monster within him began to uncurl as the need to throw Toby far from his daughter threatened to overwhelm him. He was just contemplating whether it would be better to send Toby to an oubliette or the bog, and had just about decided on the former, when Toby twitched, and his eyes flickered open. Slowly he raised his eyes and met Jareth's cold glare. Jareth jerked his head, indicating for Toby to move away.

Carefully, Toby sat up, gently removing Phoenix' hand where it had slipped down the neck of his t-shirt. He stood up, stretching the aches from his back and legs, the stiffness that had come from sleeping in such an awkward position. He looked down a Phoenix, who had not stirred from her sleep. He wandered over to the open curtains, and peered out across the Goblin City, up to the stars that were just beginning to fade under the assault of the sun. He felt Jareth's cold grip on his shoulder and turned to face the ice fire gaze.

"What were you doing?" Jareth was barely concealing his anger.

Toby ran a hand over his face. "Just sleeping I reckon," he replied and his voice sounded steady, though he took a step back from Jareth's intimidating presence.

"Why were you sleeping in here, Tobias?" Toby shivered and attempted to meet Jareth's eyes again.

"I went to the kitchen like you said and when I got back you were going to bed and Phoenix was asleep. Thought she might be scared if she woke up alone so I sat in the chair." He rubbed his hand over his close cropped hair in embarrassment. "Must have fallen asleep." He glanced back at Jareth again.

"Now you listen here Tobias," Jareth's voice was full of ice as he looked protectively down at his sleeping daughter, "my daughter has been through too much. More than any person should have to endure." He paused so that his words could sink in. "She does not need some strange man running his hands over her body, do you understand me?"

Toby licked his lips, preparing to tell Jareth that he had not meant to put his hand on Phoenix back, and that in any case she had had her fingers curled over the back of his neck, but he hesitated a moment too long. Toby was thrown back against the wall and held there, as though someone had their hand round his throat, although Jareth had not moved. His eyes blazed as he stalked towards where Toby was struggling, pushing his face close the boy's before saying in an icy whisper:

"I said, Do. You. Understand. Me?" Wordlessly, struggling for breath, Toby nodded his head. The pressure round his neck gave way and he sagged against the wall. Jareth looked down at him contemptuously. A noise from the side distracted them as both men turned towards the bed. Phoenix shifted in her sleep, her bare shoulders light against the pale blue sheet. Slowly, she rolled over, the sheet slipping down to her waist, exposing her young breasts. For a moment both men just stared.

And then, "OUT!"

Although Jareth had whispered the word it carried all the force of a bullet at point blank range and Toby was halfway to the door before he could blink. He leant against the corridor wall, his heart hammering in his chest, the image of Phoenix slowly turning over replaying itself in his mind. Jareth closed the door quietly behind him before turning to Toby.

"Watch out Tobias," he said silkily, though Toby noticed that his hands were shaking. "You don't want me as your enemy."

"I...I, I," Toby began, not sure what he had been going to say, but Jareth interrupted him.

"Now get out of my sight," Jareth hissed. "There is a guest room at the other end of the corridor. I wish you good morning." Jareth inclined his head, intimating Toby's dismissal. Toby turned and hurried quickly down the corridor, grateful to get out of Jareth's presence.

Jareth watched him go, the fire in his eyes fading as Toby softly shut the bed chamber door. He leant his back against the wall, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes. He let out a deep breath, wondering why he had reacted so strongly, knowing the boy's intentions had been good. Knowing the erection that had tented the boy's jeans was merely a natural in his sleep.

But still.

That was his daughter.

And she had been through so much.

Jareth took another deep breath and shook his head in an attempt to clear the sleep deprived fog that was clouding his thoughts before stepping forward and softly opening the door to the twins' room.

Rath's empty bed jeered at him, the jibes cutting at his soul as he took in Rath's pyjamas, thrown haphazardly over the unmade sheets, his clothes spilling out of the small chest of drawers that Sarah was always nagging him to keep tidy. He pushed the door wider and stepped through, turning towards the side of the room that was Nathaniel's. It was as clean and neat as Rath's was messy. Jareth's eyes turned to the bed.

Nathaniel was sitting on his pillow, his arms wrapped round his shins and his chin resting on his knee. He was shivering in the cold room but had not bothered to light the fire. Jareth sat down on the bad next to him, swinging his feet up and leaning back against the headboard. He slipped his arm round the boy's narrow shoulders and pulled him back until he was resting against his shoulder.

"Sorry," Jareth whispered. "Did we wake you?"

Nathaniel shook his head.

"Been awake long?" Jareth tried again.

Nathaniel merely shrugged. Jareth fought the irrational annoyance that was rising within him.

"Did you sleep well?"

Shrug.

"Did you sleep?"

Pause. Then Nathaniel shook his head.

"Why not?"

Shrug.

"Did you block the dreamless sleep I gave you?"

Shrug. Which Jareth took to mean yes.

"Why?"

Shrug. All the while Nathaniel was staring straight ahead of him, his face expressionless. Jareth took a deep breath, like a diver preparing to take the plunge.

"Was it perhaps because you wanted it to hurt. You wanted to be able to feel it?" Jareth held his breath.

Nathaniel slowly turned his head to look at Jareth, before returning to staring straight ahead. Carefully, he nodded his head. Jareth licked his lips, trying to work out how best to proceed.

"Do you want to tell me?" Nathaniel did not respond. "Alright," Jareth took a deep breath and lightly touched his finger tips to Nathaniel's temple. "Do you want to show me?"

Nathaniel turned his head slightly towards Jareth and slowly shut his eyes. Jareth stared into the passive face of his son for a few seconds before closing his eyes too, bracing himself for what was to come.

Nathaniel's memory seemed to show the world through brightness that Jareth could not understand. Mentally he blinked, focussing his mind more intensely on what Nathaniel was trying to show him. There was a whirl, as though Nathaniel had hit a fast forward, and Jareth got the brief impression of himself pushing Nathaniel against the wall and telling him to protect Sarah, an image of Sarah tied in her own sheets. Irrationally, the corners of his lips twitched. And then the strange pulling that had taken over Nathaniel's dematerialisation, and a sense of shock on the discovery of Pan's tomb. The appearance of Time. Nathaniel's temptation to join him, the power attracting him. Rath's intervention and the fight that ensued. The wide smile on Rath's face as he performed proper magic for the first time. His laugh's and shouts of joy as he changed the arrows to rose petals. Nathaniel's memory slowed down as Rath shouted and laughed.

"See Nath?" he laughed. "I can't wait to tell Daddy! It's like coming alive all over again."

The image of the sword tip disappearing back into Rath's chest as he pulled it out not quite quickly enough to avoid Nathaniel seeing. Rath's words, falling into the tomb. The blackness followed by Nathaniel's light.

And then the pain came, along with Nathaniel's realisation that Rath was dying. Trying desperately to keep Rath talking. And then the singing. Singing their lullaby.

"Sleep in sweet repose."

Rath's glazed eyes. The light going out. And then the silent screaming. The silent screaming that was still resonating round Nathaniel's head as they sat together on his bed. A scream so loud and full of pain that try as he might he could not hear it.

Slowly Jareth withdrew his fingers from Nathaniel's temples, suddenly aware that tears were coursing thickly down his face as Nathaniel's blank eyes stared up at him.

"Nathaniel," Jareth whispered, not trusting his voice, "Nathaniel I am so sorry."

Nathaniel looked up at him for a few seconds, reading the sincerity in his father's eyes. Then he nodded his head. Jareth wrapped his arms tightly round the boy, pulling him close, gently rocking him in his embrace. After a few minutes he whispered in Nathaniel's ear.

"Nath...thank you for showing me. I know it must have been...hard...to do. Now let me help you. Let me send you to sleep for a few hours. Not long. I won't let you sleep through everything. I promise you that." He looked down into his son's eyes. "But let me stop the pain, the screaming, for a little. At the moment it is all I can do. Will you let me?" Nathaniel stared up at him, before nodding his head. Jareth sighed in relief and lifted the corner of the covers so that Nathaniel could slip underneath. When he was ready, Jareth leant over him and once more place his fingers to the boy's temples. As Nathaniel's eyes flickered shut and his breathing deepened, Jareth leant close and whispered in his ear.

"And remember, we love you. And none of this is your fault."

Carefully, Jareth got up off the bed and left the room, pulling the door shut quietly behind him. He stalked, stiff backed, down the corridor, slipping through the doorway into his own bedchamber and sliding into bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling into a tight ball as the weight of what he had seen in Nathaniel's mind brought the tears to his eyes once more.

It was the trembling caused by Jareth's sobs that woke Sarah from the fitful slumber she had fallen into while awaiting Jareth's return. Softly, she moved to press against his back, raising herself on her elbow so that she could wrap her arm round his chest and look down at him.

"Jareth love?" she asked him gently, placing a soft kiss just below his ear. He winced slightly at the contact, but slowly uncurled, turning to face her.

"They were singing," he choked, his voice unusually high.

"What love? I don't understand. Who was singing?"

"The...the boys. Rath pulled the sword out and they fell through the clock. He was bleeding to death and thought the world was going dark. They were looking into each other's eyes Sarah. And singing. Brother, brother you and I...Sleep in sweet...repose." Jareth's voice broke.

"Oh God," moaned Sarah, burying her face against Jareth's neck as tears filled her eyes too. "Oh God."

"He...he was smiling. He said Pan was smiling at him. And the light just faded from his eyes as they were singing..."

"Stop Jareth...stop I can't hear it." Sarah's voice was hard, grinding over her emotions. "I won't listen."

But Jareth seemed to be unable to stop.

"Nathaniel closed his eyes and lay with him. And his blood was covering the floor. Nathaniel is screaming. But...but we left him with Pan. He is lying on the ledge and Pan has his arm round him." Suddenly Jareth rolled over so that now he was looking down at Sarah. "You don't think he's lonely do you? You don't think he's cold? What if he's scared out there all by himself? What is he misses us? He's never been away from home before. Sarah?"

Sarah had her hands over her ears, shaking her head. "Shut-up Jareth, just shut-up."

Jareth stared down at her for a few more seconds before seeming to wilt, the fight leaving his body.

"It's my fault," he whispered.

Sarah didn't move for some time but when she finally turned to him, he was lying with his back to her, his eyes shut and flickering beneath his lids. And she could not bear to wake him from his first sleep in so long.

**Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xxx**


	51. Chapter 51

**Ok, so here is the next chapter, which should hopefully clear up some of the points which have been quite confusing...although Jareth still has a little explaining to do when he gets back.**

**Please let me know what you think...I love your comments.**

**Lots of love**

**FY.A xxx**

Nathaniel leant his back against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes against the brightness of the sun. Its heat beat down on his pale face and his fingers fisted in the short grass as he rested against the castle wall. A slow smile crept across his face as he listened to the voices nearby, voices that didn't know he could hear them. Didn't know he was eavesdropping as he sat behind an outcrop of the masonry. His smile grew slightly wider as the tone of the voices changed and slowly Nathaniel's hand crept out to squeeze Rath's, sharing the joke. But it encountered...nothing. Nathaniel's eyes snapped open and he looked to his left, his eyes filling with pain as he regarded the place that he had so palpably felt his brother occupy. It was empty. Nothing more than a phantom limb. A part of one's self that is gone but still itches. An itch that can never be scratched. The sun felt suddenly colder.

Nathaniel crossed one leg over the other, standing and turning at the same time so that he faced the stone wall. He drew back his right arm, punching his fist as hard as he could into the unyielding rock. Black blood oozed from his knuckles and a delicious ache spread up his arm. He smiled slightly as the first drop of blood hit the grass. He was still in control.

Whirling round he strode out from his refuge and onto the main castle lawn. The voices to which he had been listening to stopped abruptly as Toby placed his finger to his lips. Phoenix whirled round, the sunlight catching in her blond hair.

"Nath! You startled me. I had wondered where you were...what happened to your hand?"

Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders, staring out across the lake. He flexed his fingers, smiling as a sharp stab of pain shot up his arm once more. Maybe he'd broken something? He hoped so. He turned, about to walk away. Toby, who had been regarding him thoughtfully, reached out and grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to turn back and face them.

"Did you do that?" Nathaniel still hadn't got used to hearing his mother's accent spoken in a male voice and his lips twitched. He stared stonily up at Toby, meeting the older boy's gaze in a cool, unblinking stare. Nathaniel shrugged his arm free and strode off towards the lake.

"He still hasn't spoken?" Toby's voice was soft as he turned back towards Phoenix.

The girl shook her head, her eyes following her younger brother. "I miss them Toby. B...both of them."

"But Nathaniel's still here?"

The unspoken 'but Rath is not' hung between them for a few seconds before Phoenix shook her head.

"N...not like he was," she whispered.

As the tears started in her eyes Toby took a step forward and wrapped her in his arms. Immediately she stiffened, as though fighting the urge to shove him as far from her as she could. But she did not. And then she was a little girl again, wiping her eyes against the material of his T-shirt as she snuffled against his chest. Her thumb crept into her mouth. Toby stared down at the blond hair that crowned her head. Smooth and silky. He lowered his head so that he could speak into her ear.

"Don't worry Phoenix. Your father will mend his hand when he gets back."

"I...It's not his hand I'm worried about..." Phoenix sniffed.

"I know," whispered Toby. On impulse, he dropped a kiss on top of her head. She froze and pushed back, staring up at him. "Sorry," he muttered, looking away. "Shall we walk?"

Phoenix stared at him for a few more seconds before taking the arm he offered her. The pair followed Nathaniel across the lawn towards the lake, Toby strolling easily, Phoenix walking a little stiffly as though the actions caused her some sort of discomfort.

"Best to keep an eye on him anyway. At least until Sarah comes down. Or Jareth gets back," he muttered, as though to himself.

"Mmm," Phoenix seemed to agree. "Mummy was very tired, I don't think she and Daddy have slept much these last few nights."

Toby looked down at her in surprise. Phoenix could come across as a very young child at times and it was always startling to see how much she actually was aware of. Toby reminded himself that she was the same age now as Sarah had been when she first met Jareth. And defeated him.

"Where is Daddy anyway?" Phoenix asked, startling Toby out of his reverie.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly, "he was gone when I got up."

* * *

Jareth stood, waist deep in the pool beneath the pounding waterfall, his head bowed forward as the torrent pummelled his back. His arms were held slightly away from his sides, tensed as he took the beating the water had to offer him. His naked skin as covered in goose bumps but he gritted his teeth, his eyes tight shut as unbidden images of other warm days in this garden, happy days, taunted him in his mind.

He saw himself as a boy, his laughing father telling him he had to learn to swim. Heard his loud protests as he was picked up and thrown into the icy water. His cry of triumph as he found that swimming was easy, fun. And Raemon's cry of protest that you were supposed to swim in the water, not lie on top of it, sinking down a little as though on a feather mattress. He saw himself landing and folding his wings, his expression angered, turning to interest, his frame trembling with exhilaration following his first meeting with Sarah. Running to the summerhouse to compare the likeness in the picture. And then himself pinning Sarah to a tree, making passionate love to her. Her eyes full of happiness and desire. Only for him. Their laughs and shouts. That brilliant day. And Nathaniel, standing over Didymus, Rath scrambling from the water. Rath. Rath catching the soaked Nathaniel after he had fallen in the lake. Rath naked, his pyjama bottoms on his head, claiming he was Herne. Rath, the smile frozen on his face as he turned, the sword hilt protruding from his back, the tip from his chest. Rath, his eyes glazing as the song died on his lips. Sleep in sweet repose.

"NO!" Jareth's voice echoed round the secret garden, startling a pair of rooks who flew upward into the sky cawing indignantly. Jareth let his knees give way under the weight of the water, allowing the torrent to push him beneath the surface, spinning his body done to the riverbed. He opened his eyes to the greeny light of underwater, stretching out his arms and took two strong pulls, propelling himself out from under the waterfall into the middle of the pool. He rolled onto his back, letting a few bubbles escape from between his lips as he stared up into the sunlight, refracted by the ripples on the water's surface.

A face stared down into the pool. A face surrounded by a shock of unruly dark hair. Looking right at him. Jareth blinked. The face was still there, distorted just as was the sunlight.

Jareth kicked off from the pebbly bottom, exploding through the surface of the water and scraping his hair back from his face. The light caught on the droplets in his eyelashes and he blinked them away, turning towards the place he had seen the face, still waist deep in the water.

Rath stared back at him. Pale and unmoving.

Jareth gaped, his mouth opening to emit some exclamation but he thought better of it, and closed it just in time. He ran his hand over his hair again.

"But...but you're dead," he managed finally. "The sword..." Jareth gestured to his own bare chest.

Rath nodded, pulling open the front of his tunic to reveal the silver white scar on his chest.

"But then..." Jareth stopped as Rath shook his head. And then Rath smiled, a radiant smile that lit up the garden and filled Jareth's heart with joy. And with sorrow. For with the warmth came the realisation that this Rath was not really here. Not real. Jareth smiled gently back at the figure of his son. Rath reached out his small hand towards Jareth, as though offering him to take it. Jareth walked out of the water, noticing as he did so that he was now wearing his breeches, and that he was no longer cold.

Rath smiled and turned away, setting off across the secret garden. Silently, Jareth followed. Rath led him on, threading his way through the trees that bordered the garden, coming silently to the thicket of rose bushes that marked the centre of the copse. Without pausing, Rath walked straight through the twisting vines, Jareth struggling to keep up as the thorns caught at his naked chest, until they reached a small circular clearing of green grass, completely hidden within the hedge of rose bushes. The roses were the same deep red as those that had fallen on Pan's grave. Those conjured by Rath himself. Rath turned to Jareth, once more smiling his radiant smile, and slowly faded from view.

Jareth stood, staring at the point where his son had vanished, feeling bereft all over again. He was about to turn and push his way back through the roses, wondering why Rath had led him here, when a movement off to his left caught his eye. He turned back.

A beautiful woman stood against the backdrop of rose stems. Her hair was black and held away from her face by a deep purple ribbon. Her skin was dark too, Indian, Sarah would have called it, and smooth. Her dark lashes framed eyes of the deepest hazelnut brown and her teeth, where they showed between her slightly parted lips were pearly white. From her shoulders hung a beautiful toga, a sari, in deep reds and oranges with flashes of the same purple as the ribbon. Her feet were bare.

She stood, motionless, at the edge of the thicket watching Jareth as he watched her. Jareth cleared his throat, conscious of his half nakedness.

"Who...who are you?" His voice sounded like that of a nervous boy.

The woman smiled at him. Slowly, she crossed the clearing to where he stood, frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly. She stretched out an elegant hand, on which was set a ring mounted with a deep purple stone, and lightly cupped the side of his face. Jareth shut his eyes and leant into her touch, the pain of the last few days ebbing away as she caressed him. She brought her lips to his ear.

"_I am Selene. Daughter of Luna and keeper of the stars. I am the life of the heavens and the soul of the Underground. I am Pan's wife. I am...Pan's Labyrinth."_ Her breath on his face was the gentle summer breeze.

Jareth didn't open his eyes. "_Am I dreaming?"_

"Yes," she breathed and her hand caught Jareth's placing it on her chest, just above her left breast. _"Is this not the beat you felt in the air and in the soil when you touched Pan thus?"_

Jareth nodded his head, the movement bringing his forehead into contact with hers. Neither pulled away.

"_And is this not the breath you felt in the breeze on that day?"_ she asked, blowing lightly across Jareth's lips.

"_Yes,"_ he breathed, his voice coming out like a hiss.

"_And is this not the love and protection I have given you since your birth, when I first wrapped my arms around you?"_ she whispered, before gently pressing her lips to Jareth's.

Her lips were warm and soft against his and her heady scent of life and love, and roses filled his senses. Jareth's head began to spin and as she pulled back he dropped to his knees, his mind reeling.

"_Why are you here?"_ he asked haltingly.

She rested her hand on his shoulder, stepping round him and bending down to speak into his ear from behind.

"_I have something to show you."_

* * *

Sarah lay in bed, asleep properly for the first time since Rath's death. At first it had been the grief that kept her awake, and then, as the tiredness had overwhelmed and she dropped into fitful dozes, it had been Jareth's unrest and twitchiness. His inability to lie still. His moaning in his sleep. And Nathaniel's cries from down the corridor.

But now she lay deeply asleep as she had been longing for, her eyes flickering back and forth as she dreamt. Hoggle was wearing a tutu at Christmas and she and Jareth were laughing as he cavorted round the Christmas tree with a toddler Phoenix in his arms. She rolled over in her sleep as the dream changed into something involving a chicken, a goblin and one of Jareth's dressing gowns. In the dream none of it seemed odd, but had Sarah been awake she would have laughed at the absurdity of her subconscious. She shifted slightly, so that the sun arrowing through the open window no longer fell on her closed eyelids, and as she did so, the dream shifted yet again.

She was walking through the grounds, carrying a sleeping Rath on her back. His weight was firm and reassuring. His thumb was in his mouth, his soft cheek resting on her shoulder. After walking on for a while Sarah came to the edge of the meadow of graves, and slowly began to pick her way through to the centre. As she had expected, the stone seal of Pan's tomb lay to one side and she went in, laying her sleeping son next to the body of Creation's servant so that he could sleep soundly. Rath murmured and rolled over as she looked at him. His face smooth and peaceful as he dreamt of a lake on which swam a regal white bird. Gently, Sarah stepped away to examine a low ground shrub laden with dark purple berries. She sat down on the banked side of the tomb and looked back at Rath, as he snuffled, rolling over, his thumb still firmly in his mouth. She smiled languidly.

Far off, a bird called and she turned her head towards the gentle noise. An idea murmured its way across her mind and she rose, glancing back at the sleeping form of Rath. Carefully she set off towards the sound of the birdsong. As she walked the air grew colder, the ground rising in front of her as tendrils of mist began to swirl round her ankles. She turned, wanting to return to the mound where she had left Rath, but the mist was thick and she could not see the path which she had followed up. She stumbled blindly on, searching in the fog and calling out, hoping to hear Rath's cry when he woke and realised he was alone.

And then, all at once as the ground levelled out the realisation hit her. She would never find him. He was gone. She had left him alone and now he could never have company. She had left him alone with the dead. She howled out her misery into the mist, clutching her hair and sinking to her knees. But she had to find him. Uncaring of herself she scrambled back to her feet and resumed searching. He must, he had to be here. Maybe if she sang to him, he would sing back. He liked his lullabies, they made him smile. But the words that rose to Sarah's lips were none that she had heard before.

I left my baby lying here,  
Lying here, lying here  
I left my baby lying here  
To go and gather blaeberries.

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I saw the swan upon the lake  
Upon the lake, upon the lake  
I saw the swan upon the lake  
But never found my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I heard the curlew crying far  
Crying far, crying far  
I heard the curlew crying far  
But never heard my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

I searched the moorland tarns and then  
Wandered through each silent glen  
I saw the mist upon the ben  
But never saw my baby, O!

Hovan, hovan gorry og o,  
Gorry og o, gorry o go,  
Hovan, hovan gorry o go,  
I never found my baby, O!

Her voice broke, the last "O" turning into a howl of misery directed against the fruitlessness of her search for one she new to be gone. In despair she fell to her knees.

"Never found him, never heard him, never saw. O, my poor baby, O," she wailed wringing her hands, berating herself for the folly of leaving Rath on his own for even a second. He was on his own. Alone and frightened.

"My poor, poor baby," sobbed Sarah in anguish. "Lost, my poor lost baby boy, oh," she buried her face in her hands and began to sob in earnest. Her loss hit her, choking back her tear and stealing her voice.

"Gone," she whispered. "Gone. Never to return. I should never have let him go."

Something grabbed at her arm and she looked up sharply. A hand from the mist. Pale. Holding tightly onto her upper arm. She struggled to free herself and as she did so the other person lurched, off balance from Sarah's sudden jerk. Sarah felt her eyes widen in horror as her hands closed on the forearms of a person she could not see. A ghost.

She gripped the spirit tightly. This was her link to Rath. And she had to know. Would she see Rath again when the stars threw down their spears? Or was he lost in the wilderness, never to be found. Alone. Unloved. Unmourned.

"Will they?" she asked and her breath was cold, furling in clouds into the mist. "Will they?"

And she thought she heard doubt, and uncertainty from the spirit in the mist. She tightened her grip, determined to get her answer. Leaning forward she sought the eyes of the spirit to which she spoke. And then she saw them, just discernable through the mist, bright green like her own. She fixed on them, holding them with were gaze.

"When they come, will the lost souls be forgot?"

The eyes blinked at her and suddenly Sarah was filled with revulsion for the spirit to which she was clinging and she pushed with all her might, the eyes disappearing back into the mist.

In her bed, drenched with sweat and with tears running down her cheeks, Sarah started awake.

* * *

Selene knelt down behind Jareth, her arms straying forward over his shoulders onto his bare chest. Jareth leant back into her embrace, his head falling back to rest on her shoulder, his eyes closing as a deep weariness overcame him.

"_Many times have a held you like this,"_ Selene spoke into his mind. "_I watched you become a man. Ran my hands over your body and kissed the wounds you had along the way. I was in your mind, giving you strength. In your body, giving you power. In your soul, giving you faith. I have been in your magic, giving you dominance. We are good together." _The Labyrinth, Selene, nipped the shell of Jareth's ear, her hands splaying across his abdomen. Jareth's senses felt fogged by her presence and he had to fight a need that was the result of abstinence since Rath's death. Rath's death. Sarah.

"_You said you had something to show me?"_ he asked and voice came out harsher than he meant.

"_We are great allies, you and I. Powerful, cold, cruel. Yes Jareth, I can be very cruel." _And there was a note of warning her voice.

"_Please_," Jareth begged. "_Please show me."_

"_Very well."_

Selene's right hand left Jareth's chest where she had been tracing patterns and she reached into the air, pulling from it a richly decorated sword.

"_My lover's sword,"_ Selene whispered. _"He wishes to see you."_

Jareth felt her rise to her feet behind him, her left hand tightly gripping his shoulder.

And she plunged the sword into his back.

Jareth's eyes flew open and he looked down at his own chest. The tip of the sword protruded, just below his sternum. His eyes wide, his mouth filling with blood, Jareth pitched forward onto the soft grass that carpeted the clearing. Selene watched as he fell, before stepping forward slowly and pulling the sword free from his body. She turned, and as Pan stepped into the copse behind her she handed him back the blade. Pan reached out a large hand to his wife, grasping the sword hilt. As he did so a ripple ran through the thicket.

"_Thankyou, my love."_ His voice rumbled deep through the Underground. He tilted her head up towards his and kissed her gently on the lips. Slowly he pulled back. _"I must go. I have a meeting to attend. Stay with him until he wakes."_ His eyes flickered briefly to the prone figure of Jareth before he turned, fading from view as he stepped out of the thicket.

Selene turned slowly back to Jareth and lay down beside him, wrapping her arms round. She brought her lips against his and whispered into his mouth, "_Listen well, my friend."_

She tightened her grip around him before she too faded from view.

* * *

Jareth stood once more in the meadow, the clear stream bubbling off to his left. The grass swayed in the gentle breeze and he felt relaxed. Slowly, he turned his head, looking round for the singers that he knew would come. But the meadow was silent. Instead, a solitary figure was walking slowly towards him and as Jareth squinted against the brightness radiating from somewhere behind the figure, he realised who it was.

"_Pan,"_ he greeted the arrival, taking a step forward.

"_Jareth,"_ the tall fae, Creation's Servant, inclined his head. _"Once again it would seem you disturb my peace."_

All though the words themselves sounded like a jibe, the tone held no hint of reprimand.

"_The Labyrinth, I mean Selene, said you wished to see me_," Jareth was not used to being the dominated one in a conversation and was finding it hard to adjust. "_Why did you bring me here?"_

Pan gave a slow, lazy smile. "_Neutral territory." _His face suddenly became grave as he stared into Jareth's eyes. _"Are you alright?"_

"Yes_...no..."_

"_I am sorry for you loss." _Jareth did not know what to say, so merely nodded. _"I expect though, that you are wondering why?"_ Pan looked quizzically at Jareth, who stared at the grass and nodded again.

"It's not fair," he burst out suddenly, reminding himself strongly of a fourteen year old Sarah. _"I mean...I fulfilled the prophecy didn't I? They were supposed to be gone for good."_

Pam smiled again, his expression understanding. "_To those of us who lose, the loss is never fair. Had you, or perhaps your ancestors sought the answer, then perhaps you would have known."_

"_But the prophesy said..."_

"_Ah, but the prophesy was incomplete. At least," _here Pan paused, "_your version was. One verse, just one, lost in the mists of time. But it makes all the difference. I think you saw in Nathaniel's mind when they arrived in the graveyard he asked, 'Where are we?' and Selene replied, 'Where you were always meant to be.'?"_

Jareth nodded his head. "_The prophesy."_

Pan inclined his head again. _"Indeed._

Jareth felt angry, cheated. "_But why didn't you tell me? I would have..."_

"_What Jareth? Kept your distance? Not become so attached? You could hardly have cherished him more." _Pan's tone was gentle and Jareth felt his anger deflate.

"_No,"_ Jareth's shoulders sagged and he said almost petulantly, _"but I would have known."_

"_And what? What would that knowledge have made you do. Wrap him in cotton wool so that no harm could come to him? Stopped him from playing, from learning anything that could destroy him? Perhaps you would have told him? Can you imagine what the knowledge would do to child? Could you honestly have looked him in the eye and told him he was going to die? Not peacefully in his sleep...but violently, and knowingly. Could you have done that?"_

Slowly Jareth shook his head.

"_How was the verse lost?"_ he asked, trying to move the subject away from Rath before the pressure building in his chest escaped in the form of tears.

"_It was only produced once, on the edge of the ledge in my tomb. It fits in before the last verse."_

Pan's deep slow voice rumbled through the meadow as he recited the words.

Of two, two more forever loving

Cross dark and light through night and day

Time's tomb sealed shut by sorrow offering

For peace the blameless black shall pay

As Pan finished, Jareth shifted uncomfortably. _"Rath." _

"_Yes,"_ answered Pan. _"Of the two, Sarah and you, come twins. One dark and one fair. By the dark one's loss, that is of course Rath, the tomb you created for Time when you banished him will finally be sealed shut."_

"_The stone box into which Time was sucked?"_

"_You created it from Time's own force when you defeated him, but you did not seal him inside. To lure him back in order trap him was easy, you accomplished it simply by your happiness. And to finally seal the tomb – that was harder. It required blood."_

Jareth took a deep breath. _"A sacrifice."_

"_In a way, yes. And Rath offered himself up."_

"_He did not,"_ Jareth could feel the anger rising again. "_He was fighting."_

"_He accepted what was happening. He embraced my comfort. He embraced me. And I took him on." _Pan gestured with his hand. _"Look."_

Jareth turned to see what Pan had indicated. The meadow seemed empty. But then, out of the air, stepped Rath, holding tightly onto Pan's hand and Jareth realised that he, and the Pan he stood with, were merely watching a shadow replay of something that had happened before.

Rath looked tiny in comparison to Pan's commanding height and his body was shaking slightly. Jareth desperately wanted to wrap his arms round the scared form of his son, but Pan placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"_Just watch," _he said. _"Look, here they come."_

And across the meadow the singers were coming, their voices carrying through the still air.

When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound  
Among a band of brothers,  
The cup of joy goes gaily round,  
Each shares the bliss of others.  
Sweet roses grace the thorny way  
Along this vale of sorrow;  
The flowers that shed their leaves to-day  
Shall bloom again to-morrow.  
How grand in age, how fair in youth,  
Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"

The singers drew nearer and the first raised his hands to his hood lowering it as Rath stared transfixed. The man stepped forward, breaking ranks with the rest of the chorus, his long white blond hair cascading free. Jareth felt the breath catch in his throat as he saw the silvery scar running round the man's neck. Jareth's father dropped to his knees and opened his arms to his grandson, smiling in welcome.

Rath looked up at Pan, as though unsure. But Pan too smiled at him in encouragement, letting go of his hand and pushing him forward. Rath slowly crossed the distance to his grandfather, who folded him in his arms, his cloak wrapping round the body of the small boy. Jareth felt his eyes fill with tears as Rath's arms wrapped round the old fae's shoulders.

On halcyon wings our moments pass,  
Life's cruel cares beguiling;  
Old Time lays down his scythe and glass,  
In gay good-humour smiling:  
With ermine beard and forelock gray,  
His reverend part adorning,  
He looks like Winter turn'd to May,  
Night soften'd into Morning.  
How grand in age, how fair in youth,  
Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"

Slowly, Jareth's father climbed to his feet, taking Rath's hand and leading him towards the next cloaked figure, who lowered his hood in turn. Herne gripped Rath's shoulders in welcome, a broad smile on his rugged features. One by one the hoods were lowered, each fae shaking Rath's hand, welcoming him, congratulating him. Until only one man was left hooded.

The other singers fell silent as the man raised his hands to his hood and lowered it carefully. Again Pan had to catch Jareth's arm as he started forward, anger pulsing inside him against the man who stood before his son. Raemon stared down at Rath, the similarity between them so striking that Jareth heard himself gasp. Carefully, Raemon reached into his cloak and withdrew the crystal that Jareth and Nathaniel had created in Pan's tomb. As he held it out, the tune changed and Raemon continued alone.

Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;  
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae:  
Come Ease, or come Travail, come Pleasure or Pain,  
My warst word is:- "Welcome, and welcome again!"

Rath stared up at Raemon, before nodding his head, accepting this welcome. Jareth too, felt himself relax somewhat.

"_Remember, it was not him who took Phoenix."_ Pan reminded Jareth, who nodded slowly.

Across the meadow, Rath stretched out his hand, his small fingers closing round the crystal ball in which the tiny figure of himself floated. His star. As he took it from Raemon there was a ripple round the group of welcomers and Rath turned to smile up at his grandfather. The fae smiled back and once more took the small boy's hand.

But as he made to turn away, leading Rath back from where the singers had come, Rath stopped once more and turned. And suddenly, inexplicably, his eyes found Jareth's. Eyes full of love. And not a hint of blame. And then, for the first time, Rath opened his mouth to take up song.

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,  
And oh my grave the warmer, sweeter be,  
If you should bend and tell me that you love me,  
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

For a few seconds, there was silence in the meadow and then Jareth, tears running freely down his cheeks, nodded his head.

Rath smiled at him. And then the old fae wrapped his arm round the young boy's shoulders, leading him away with the rest of the singers. And the song took up once more, Rath's voice clear and true within the chorus.

From these delightful fountains flow  
Ambrosial rills of pleasure;  
Can man desire, can Heaven bestow,  
A more resplendent treasure?  
Adorn'd with gems so richly bright,  
Will form a constellation,  
Where every star, with modest light,  
Shall gild its proper station.  
How grand in age, how fair in youth,  
Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"

"_And rapture, its passion to innocence lending, Is a dance in my soul and a song in my ear."_

Jareth turned to Pan, to ask him what he meant, but the meadow was already fading, dissolving in a great swirl of mist.

**So what did you think? Next chapter will hopefully be up soon! xxxx**


	52. Chapter 52

**Hey, here is the next chapter...things are hopefully starting to move again.**

**Let me know what you think. xxx**

As Jareth's consciousness returned to his body he became acutely aware of the smell of fresh Underground grass, mixed with the sweet smell of roses. He lay for a few minutes, his eyes shut, the strange feeling that someone had their arms wrapped round him steadily growing. Eventually, he opened his eyes and as he did so, he was sure he felt the flutter of breath against his lips. But when he finally looked, there was no-one there.

Sighing, Jareth pushed himself into a sitting position, and looked down at his own naked chest on which the medallion hung. It was once more smooth and unblemished. He raised a finger and touched the place on his sternum where the sword tip had appeared.

Nothing.

He pressed a little harder. In his mind there was a flash, and then a sharp pain in his finger. He raised his hand to the light, the black blood oozing from the deep cut on his finger shiny in the sun. When he spoke, his voice did not sound like his own.

"And once the demands of the bloody sword met/ throw down your arms. In grief, never forget." Jareth looked around himself, at the beauty of the little thicket. The sadness that had been his constant companion since the day of Rath's death seemed to have lightened round his shoulders, no longer an all-encompassing cloak. Rath was at peace. He was loved. He was not a lost soul to be forgotten. Jareth smiled properly for what seemed like the first time in years. He pulled himself to his feet and pushed his way through the wall of rose bushes, uncaring once more of the thorns that took long scratches from his chest and arms.

Striding quickly into the open area of the secret garden, Jareth spun on the spot, stretching his wings and spiralling up into the air, letting out a loud shriek, telling the world that it was alright. That you could love and mourn and smile and laugh. Turning, he set off in the direction of the castle, streaking through the sunlit sky as the light danced off the walls of the Labyrinth.

* * *

Sarah stepped through the great front doors onto the stone steps of the castle. It truly was a beautiful day and yet she felt she could take no pleasure in it. It was the sort of day where Rath would have been running on the lawn, splashing in the lake and begging Jareth to take them on a trip into the Labyrinth. Instead of the shouts and laughs however, the air was filled with silence. A figure caught her attention on the other side of the smooth lawn and Sarah squinted into the sun before setting off across the expanse of grass.

"Naughty busheses, naughty, naughty. Scramblings round me and scratching my handsies."

"Hello Hoggle," Sarah said quietly as she approached the muttering little dwarf. Hoggle jumped and spun round, looking terrified at the sight of her.

"Sorrys Sarah, I'll just be getting out of your ways..." he turned and began to hurry away.

"Stop Hoggle, please come back," Sarah called after him. The old dwarf froze and turned slowly.

"I was thinkings you wouldn't be wanting peoples around you," he muttered to his feet.

"Hoggle, its ok. Please come back."

Hoggle shuffled his feet uncomfortably, staring off towards the lake.

"I's, I is sorry 'bout Master Rath," he whispered, as he looked determinedly anywhere other than at Sarah. Sarah nodded her head, finding herself unable to speak

"Umm," said Hoggle, trying to fill the awkward silence. "Look Sarah, here comes Jareth."

Sarah looked to where he was pointing. A small speck was just becoming visible, a bird in flight. There was a rustle behind her and Sarah spun round, only to see Hoggle vanishing through the bushes. She sighed in exasperation, turning back to the soaring owl silhouetted against the sky.

Jareth flew lower, spiralling down and landing on the smooth lawn in front of the castle. He looked round quickly, spying Sarah on the edge of the bush border and striding towards her.

"Jareth!" she exclaimed. "Jareth what happened to you. Were you attacked, are they back?" Sarah's voice was rising hysterically and for a moment Jareth could not understand why. Then he looked down at his own naked chest which was covered with cuts and scrapes received from the rose thorns.

"Wha...no I am fine. They are not back Precious. Calm yourself." He pulled her into his arms.

"I thought...I..." she mumbled against his chest.

"I know," he soothed, stroking her hair.

"Then what?"

"I saw him Sarah. Pan. And...Rath."

Sarah looked up at him sharply. "Don't see that. It's horrible."

"No," Jareth realised that she must have thought that he had been to the tomb. "I spoke to Pan. Rath...he's at peace. I saw it."

"How?" Sarah's hands were gripping his shoulders, desperate to hear what he had seen. Desperate for it to be true.

"I went to the meadow. With Pan. He explained it to me. It was all part of the prophecy, a missing verse. We banished him, but a...but blood was needed to seal his tomb. Lock him inside. Sarah...Rath was never meant to survive."

Sarah buried her head against Jareth's chest, tears running down her cheeks. But Jareth kept going, knowing Sarah needed to hear what he had seen.

"Pan took him to the meadow. They arrived holding hands. And then he was met by my father. He was welcomed as a hero." Jareth purposely missed out the part about Raemon, thinking that Sarah could not understand it after everything that had happened both to her and Phoenix, without having actually seen it. "Sarah...he's happy. It is alright."

Sarah drew back from his chest and looked deeply into his eyes. "Are you sure."

Jareth met her gaze. "Yes," he said.

Sarah's face broke into a smile. "Thank God," she paused, her face falling again. "I still miss him," she said.

"I know. I do to. We always will. We will always love him. But he is safe and happy. We don't have to worry."

Sarah looked up at him and her expression changed, hardening. She pushed her hands up round his neck and pulled him down into a fierce kiss. As their tongues duelled Jareth's hands slipped round her waist, running down to clasp her buttocks and pull the centre of her body against him, grinding her hips against his. She was panting as her lips slid from his, her eyes hot with desire.

"Jareth, uh..." her breath hitched as he nipped the sensitive skin just below her ear. She ran her hands up his naked chest to cup his face, holding his head still. His smouldering gaze met hers. "Jareth you need to stop. Jareth, you need to tell Nathaniel."

Jareth brought his lips back against hers gently, chastely. He drew back and nodded his head. "Yes, you are right. He needs to know immediately."

He released her and turned but Sarah called him back.

"Jareth, for goodness sake put on a shirt. You are covered in blood and I can't keep my hands off you."

Jareth grinned savagely at her. "Hold that thought," he said silkily and reached into the air, pulling a shirt towards him and down over his head. He strode off to find Nathaniel.

* * *

Toby and Phoenix wandered through the longer grass that bordered the wall to the Goblin City. Phoenix led the way, her form swaying as she navigated a route she had known since she was a very small girl. Toby followed behind watching the swing of her hair as fell to the curve of her hips. He could see, even from here that this was no longer a child, but a young woman. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry and he turned his head staring into the sun in an attempt to distract his imagination.

Phoenix stopped and Toby walked into her back, causing her to stagger forward, giggling. Instinctively, Toby threw out an arm, catching her round the waist and pulling her upright again. For a moment she stared into his eyes, his arm still round her waist before she spun away from him, laughing, and darted into a narrow gap between a gorse-bush and the thick stone wall. Toby stood for a moment, waiting for her to reappear. When she didn't, he crossed to the gap and stuck his head in. Phoenix was sitting in a small clear space covered in dead needles, made in the niche of the wall and beneath the branches of the bush. She gestured for him to join her. Toby had to flatten himself against the cold stone to avoid being prickled by the unforgiving thorns on his broad shoulders. He sat down next to Phoenix, leaning his back against the wall.

"I like this place," she told him, "I come here to think or to be alone sometimes."

She was watching him, Toby knew. He could feel her gaze on his face. He continued to look straight ahead.

"You must think I'm horrible person," she said, still watching him. "Laughing and joking so soon after Rath's death. It...it's not that I don't miss him..."

"I don't think you're a horrible person," Toby said truthfully. "I suppose people just deal with things in different ways."

"Yes," Phoenix said musingly. "I suppose they do. And I suppose part of me feels less involved. He was Nath's twin. Mummy and Daddy's son. I'm just his sister. And...and I don't want to think about that day."

Toby turned to face her, looking her in the eye. "You have as much right to grieve, to feel sad, as any of them. It is me who is the outsider." Toby looked back into the forest of gorse needles in front of him, purposefully ignoring are mention of what had happened to her.

"I'm glad you are here," Phoenix told him. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms round his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't go."

Toby's gaze could have set the bush on fire. He nodded his head once, curtly. The pair sat in silence for a while, Toby very aware of Phoenix nuzzling her cheek against his bicep. She was biting her lip, trying to decide whether to ask him something. In the end she took a deep breath .

"Toby, can I ask you something?"

"Mmm?"

"About that day...When...when Daddy brought me home, why were you there?"

Toby had known that at some point she would ask him about that night, but even so he was not sure what to say.

"I...I think your father brought me here to save your mother. She was suffocating for some reason."

"Oh," Phoenix looked deep in thought. "What did you do?"

"I," Toby shifted uncomfortably, "I gave her mouth to mouth."

"Oh. And...and on that night...did you see me?"

Toby nodded his head.

"Before I was dressed?"

Toby nodded his head again.

"When my gown was all torn and not covering me?" she persisted.

Toby swallowed uncomfortably and nodded a third time.

"Oh," said Phoenix and she shifted beside him so that she could see his face. "What did you think?"

Toby cleared his throat and pulled his knees up to his chest, staring determinedly ahead of him.

"I thought it was horrible what had been done to you," he said, a little harshly.

"Do you know that details?"

Toby shook his head. "And I'm not sure I want to."

"Toby..."

"And I thought you needed a good wash," he added hastily.

"Toby...that's not what I meant."

"I know."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Toby!" Phoenix shifted in frustration, sitting herself up a little more. "What. Did. You. Think?"

"Umm...look Phoenix," Toby ran his hand over his hair, "I'm not sure this is really appropriate..."

"Tell me what you thought," Phoenix' voice had a harder edge to it now, more determined. More demanding. Much more like her father.

"I...uh..." Toby turned his head away from Phoenix so that she couldn't see the battle going on on his face. "I thought you were very beautiful."

Toby cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks burning red.

"Very beautiful?" Phoenix' voice sounded thoughtful. Toby nodded his head, still not looking at her. "Toby, do you like me?"

"I think you're a very sweet, brave person."

Phoenix' hand strayed down his arm and Toby gritted his teeth, not sure what to do. Her finger traced the bump of his knuckles and he reflexively clenched his fist.

"Toby?" Phoenix' voice sounded less sure now. "Toby, will you kiss me?"

"Wha...why?"

"Because I want to know what it should be like. And I like you, and you like me."

The simplicity of what she said grated at Toby's resolve.

"Phoenix I...I can't. It would be wrong for me to take advantage of you when you're vulnerable..." he tailed off as her hand made its way to his cheek, turning his head towards her. He looked down into her eyes and licked his lips. "I can't," he said, almost pleadingly.

Phoenix smiled slightly, her eyes bright and Toby felt himself drawn towards her. When their lips met it was soft and gentle. Brushing. Light. Toby's hands rose up to cradle her head as he pressed his mouth more firmly over hers. She sighed gently, her lips parting a fraction and Toby gently pushed his tongue forward. She met it with hers and then they were massaging, dancing, exploring.

"No!" Toby tore himself away, his heart hammering. He leant forward over his knees, trying to hide how much he had enjoyed the kiss. That was not what Phoenix needed right now. "This is wrong," he said more firmly.

"Wrong?" Phoenix wrinkled her nose.

"I'm...I'm too old for you," he stammered.

"Only six years. Daddy is over four hundred years older than Mummy."

"Ok then..." Toby sought around for the next reason, trying to ignore the voice telling him that no good reason existed. "You're only fourteen."

"So was Mummy when Daddy first lured her here."

Toby groaned in frustration. "I'm your half uncle for God's sake!" He tried to move, to get away from her so that he could think clearly but she seized his arm and pulled him back, catching him off balance so that he sprawled back against the floor of gorse needles. She pressed her knee against his chest and looked down at him.

"Toby..." she began.

"Phoenix..." he pleaded as he squirmed beneath her, uncomfortably aware of how close she was to his hard cock. She ground her knee into his chest.

"Toby!" she said authoritatively and his eyes snapped back to hers. "Toby, what in the Underground is the problem with you being my uncle?"

Of all the things Toby had been expecting her to say it was not that. "Huh?" was all he managed. She looked down at him pointedly. "Well...umm..." he tried to concentrate. "Where I come from it's illegal for uncles to...do stuff...with their nieces."

"Oh..."Phoenix thought about this for a moment. "Why?" she asked.

"Well, umm. Three headed babies, forbidden degrees..." he was interrupted by Phoenix' laugh.

"Three headed babies? By Creation Toby. If faes didn't marry amongst themselves there'd be no power left! I wouldn't marry my father, or my brother," she shuddered a little, "but an uncle? Why not? It happens all the time in the Underground."

The shock must have shown in Toby's eyes for she laughed again. But then her eyes became serious. "Toby...the whole time I was in that room I didn't understand. I still don't. How can Mummy love Daddy if that's what he does to her? Am I just wrong?" her eyes were brimming with tears and she shifted her knee as she sat back. Toby sat up gratefully. "And then I thought that maybe he treated me like that to punish me. Because I can't be a nice person. He made me feel so dirty. And now I know I am. Because I'm not crying about Rath. And even you won't kiss me." She buried her head in arms, sobbing.

Toby watched helplessly. After a few moments he moved beside her, wrapping his arm round her shaking shoulders. "Phee, Phee," he soothed. "It's ok. You're not a horrible person. Look."

He tilted her head up towards him, his fingers under her chin, and kissed her softly on the mouth. "You are not dirty or wrong. You are a sweet, loving person. But I can't do this." He dropped his arm from round her and looked away. "If I did your father would tear me into little pieces and lock each bit in a separate oubliette." He paused and she gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry Phoenix."

Carefully, Toby got to his feet and squeezed out from behind gorse bush, striding quickly away.

* * *

Jareth walked round the edge of the lake, towards the small figure he could see on the far side. Nathaniel was sitting on a rock, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped round his knees. He was staring at nothing. Jareth paused a moment before climbing up and sitting down beside him.

"Hey," he said softly.

Nathaniel didn't react but continued to stare out across the lake.

"Do you mind me joining you?" Jareth asked, pulling his legs up to his chest too and wrapping his arms round his knees, mirroring Nathaniel.

The small boy glanced at Jareth and quickly looked away.

"It's a nice place this," Jareth said conversationally, "don't you think?"

Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you come here a lot?"

Shrug.

"It's a good place for thinking, I should think."

Shrug.

"Nathaniel," Jareth turned his head, looking at his son's pale face. "I want you to answer me something truthfully alright?"

No reaction.

"Do you think what happened to Rath was your fault?"

Nathaniel uncurled his legs and stood up. He took two steps and jumped off the edge of the rock. He began to walk away, his feet crunching on the gravelly shingle.

Jareth cursed and quickly followed him, catching his arm to turn him back towards him.

"Nathaniel don't...Nathaniel what happened to your hand?" Jareth was brought up short by the sight of his son's swollen and bleeding knuckles. Nathaniel stared at his hand too. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Does it hurt?" Jareth's voice was full of concern.

Nathaniel looked up at him and an eerie smile stole across his features. He flexed his fingers. And nodded his head.

"By Creation," Jareth moaned, grasping his son's wrist so that he could examine his hand more closely. "Did you do that?"

The weird smile was still on Nathaniel's face as he nodded his head once more.

"But, Nathaniel, why?"

Nathaniel made no move, just continued to smile up at his father. Jareth sighed and covered Nathaniel's hand with his own. Nathaniel jerked back sharply, shaking his head.

"It's alright Nathaniel," Jareth paused. "I won't heal it if you don't want me to."

Inside, he desperately wanted to take away all Nathaniel's pain. Turn him back into the cocky little boy he had been mere days before. But he knew it was impossible.

"The reason I came round here actually, was because I had something to tell you." Jareth looked down at Nathaniel, on whose face was the barest flicker of interest. "I met someone really important this morning," Jareth continued, "and he showed me something I thought you might like to know too." Jareth glanced down again. "Remember the other night when you showed me what happened. Well now I want to show you what happened...if you'll let me?"

Jareth waited for Nathaniel's small nod before stepping forward and placing his fingers to Nathaniel's temples. He waited until Nathaniel had closed his eyes before he closed his own, drawing on his power to project his memory of events into Nathaniel's mind, so that the boy could see for himself. He felt Nathaniel tense at the part where Rath first appeared and could feel him start to shake as the scene progressed. As Jareth removed his fingers and opened his eyes, there was complete silence, save for the lapping of the waves on the banks of the lake.

Nathaniel opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Jareth. He stared at him unmoving for a long moment.

"When are we going?" he asked, and his voice sounded thin and insubstantial, as though he was recovering from a cold. Jareth stared down at his son, trying not to over-react.

"When are we going where?" he asked, trying to keep is voice neutral.

"To tell him that we love him." Nathaniel said it as though explaining the obvious to an idiot. Jareth blinked. He had not thought about it.

"When would you like to go?"

Nathaniel seemed to pause and consider. "Not today. Tomorrow. There is something I want to do."

Jareth nodded his understanding, staring out across the lake to give Nathaniel some privacy as he shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly Nathaniel stared up at his father again.

"It feels like half of me is missing," he whispered. "I can feel him with me. Hear his voice, hold his hand. But when I turn to look he's not there. It's like I've been sawn in two."

Jareth crouched down so that Nathaniel's face was above his. He looked into his son's mismatched eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Nathaniel cut across him.

"Don't you dare say it will get better," he snarled.

Jareth held his ground and smiled back. "I wasn't going to," he said gently. "How could I possibly know? But what I was going to say was that however it turns out, you will learn to live with it."

"I won't..."

"I know you won't forget," Jareth forestalled Nathaniel's retort. "Nor will I. Nor will any of us. You will always carry him with you. You will always miss him. I will not pretend otherwise. But in time you will carry him as a comfort rather than a burden. You will carry him, and maybe, one day, you will feel complete again."

Jareth kissed Nathaniel lightly on the forehead and turned, walking back towards the castle. Behind him, Nathaniel sat down on the shingle and looked at his own swollen hand. Tentatively, he reached out his undamaged hand and covered the damaged one with it. He closed his eyes and an expression of concentration passed across his face. When he opened his eyes and removed his hand, his knuckles were smooth and blemish free once more.

Turning, Nathaniel reached out his hand to the spot beside him.

"Hey," he said and his face broke into a smile. "You're not so bad really."


	53. Chapter 53

**Hello everyone. Here is the next chapter and it comes with a heavy !smut warning! so don't say I didn't tell you. lol.**

**Thankyou to everyone who did favourite author/favourite story and alerts etc...it means a lot. There was one thing that made me a bit sad though - I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter :-( so I didn't know whether you liked it or anything. Please let me know what you think so that I can improve?**

**Anyway, on with the story.**

**Lots of love,**

**FY.A xxx**

Toby sat on the bed he had been using since his arrival in the Underground, letting his head fall back against the headboard, his eyes shut. His mind was in turmoil. Phoenix' delicate features swam in his vision, her lips slightly parted, her eyes sparkling, just as she had looked before he had kissed her. And what a kiss it had been. The feeling of her tongue against his, her slight form against his chest. Warmth. Soft sweetness. Toby opened his eyes and shivered slightly. She was a very attractive young woman, for all her girlish qualities. But she was too young, too vulnerable. He could not bear to think what had happened to her that day that had caused the damage he had seen on her beautiful body. And yet she trusted him. A stranger. Blind trust that he had done nothing to deserve. And her forcefulness. So like her father. So like Jareth.

Jareth. Jareth would tear him limb from limb for touching his daughter if ever he found out, their encounter on the morning after that fateful day had proved as much. But what if that weren't the case. Toby allowed himself a few moments of blissful imagination in which Jareth approved of their union. Their wedding night. How he would kiss Phoenix gently as he led her towards the bed.

No.

Jareth storming in. The pain of the castration. Probably a blunt knife. Toby shivered again, this time out of disgust.

Tomorrow, he vowed, after the trip to visit Rath, he would tell Jareth of his need to return to the Aboveground. He simply could not trust himself to stay here. Sighing, he got up off the bed and pulled his T-shirt over his head, slowly getting ready for bed.

* * *

Jareth tapped lightly on the door before pushing it open.

"Nathaniel, can I come in?"

Nathaniel was sitting cross legged on Rath's bed, surrounded by the litter of books and clothes that denoted his search through Rath's possessions. As Jareth entered, he raised his head from the piece of paper he had been studying.

"Hello." Nathaniel's voice till sounded a little odd.

Jareth's eyes swept the chaos that had been Rath's half of the room. Though never exactly neat, it was now a compete mess. Clothes that had at least been half in the chest of drawers now lay on the strewn about the floor, the books that had been stacked haphazardly in and around the book shelf had toppled their piles, many lying open. Next to Nathaniel on the bed, the pillow had been pulled out of the pillow case and the sheet untucked.

Jareth swallowed. "Well?"

"I found it." And he held out the piece of parchment that he had been reading. Carefully Jareth took it from him. "He found them in one of your books in the library a few days ago. He liked them so he copied them out."

Jareth let his eyes fall to the scrap in his hand. It had been torn from Rath's notebook. His thin, slightly wobbly handwriting covered it. Jareth stared at it for a few more minutes, not reading, just looking at this reminder of his son's existence. He let his eyes begin to take in the words. The first was an extract from a poem, Rath's notes adorning his copying.

_If wealth thou art wooing, or title, or fame,_  
_There is that in the doing brings honour or shame;_  
_There is something in running life's perilous race,_  
_Will stamp thee as worthy, or brand thee as base._  
_Oh, then, be a man — and, whatever betide,_  
_Keep truth thy companion, and honour thy guide._

_Remember: Important things are not what may seem to be of value. Nath will be king. He will be known like Daddy and remembered. I am just Rath. I will not be king. I will not be special. But I will try and follow this poem. I'll tell the truth and try to be a nice person. And then whatever happens I know I did my best. This tells me what to do._

Jareth blinked his eyes and looked down to the next section of Rath's spidery writing.

_And rapture, its passion to innocence lending,_  
_Is a dance in my soul, and a song in my ear._

_From the last part of Pan's Last Request. Explained in the text as when one eroticism's bliss lends its power to the innocent then Pan will be free of soul and voice once more. Quite difficult to understand. Gaining strength across different forces of power. But I think it should be re-written like this:_

_And Rapture, HIS passion to Innocence lending_

_Written like this it makes more sense. Make Rapture and Innocence into personalities. That means it is a person who will free Pan. I wonder what form? And who the people are?_

Jareth suddenly realised he had stopped breathing. Could Rath have been right. He had read the fable of Pan's Last Request of course, and been interested. But he had never tried to work out its meaning like Rath obviously had. Rapture and Innocence as people, players in the freeing of Pan? It was an interesting theory and one, Jareth realised with a start, did seem to fit the facts, if indeed the defeat of Time was the freeing of Pan. Rath in the role of innocence, and you could hardly have found a more innocent power. And Rapture? Jareth looked back at Rath's note of the book's explanation. Eroticism's bliss. Jareth wondered briefly if Rath had known what that meant. Eroticism's bliss lending power to innocence, if Rath's interpretation had been correct. Had Rath produced magic before he had arrived? Magic that he had not seen. He did not think so, judging from Nathaniel's memory. Did that make him Rapture? It was a very interesting notion that his young son had put forward. He must have been very perceptive. Jareth looked down at the last entry. It was very short.

_Twilight is softly falling as the sun sinks in the West,_  
_The one I love is calling, "Shepherd, come home to rest."_

_Last lines of – The Gravestone Yet to Come. Twilight, the end or death of light. This one is easy. Father's death._

Father's death. His death. Jareth swallowed convulsively. Was this his gravestone? His epitaph? He shuddered a little and read it again. He could not fault Rath's logic. Jareth, the Light One. Twilight, as the light was fading. Someone called to rest.

"Do you think he was right?" Nathaniel broke in on his thoughts.

Jareth looked up from the paper. Nathaniel was watching him closely.

"I think it highly likely."

"He loved doing that. Finding the interpretations of things. He would pick up one of your old books, the sort that are all written in cripitc. I could make no sense of it but he'd just start explaining it like it were obvious. And he loved doing it. That was his kind of learning."

There was a note of admiration in Nathaniel's voice, mixed with a deep sadness. Jareth smiled at him.

"For such a young boy, he was very wise," Jareth told Nathaniel. "Which part did you have in mind?"

"Either the first or the second. I don't want to think about the third."

Jareth nodded in agreement. "I think you are right. Well done Nathaniel. You are doing very well."

Nathaniel hugged his arms round his body and looked down at the bed. "I want it to be right," he muttered.

Jareth crossed to where he sat and knelt down, wrapping his arms round his son. "I know," he whispered and kissed the boy's forehead. "Come on."

Carefully, Jareth picked up Nathaniel, even though he was no longer small and had not carried him to bed in many years. He tucked the covers round Nathaniel and placed is fingers to the boys temples, ready to send him into a deep sleep, but Nathaniel stopped him.

"Not tonight," he whispered. His eyes carried the faintest prickle of tears.

Jareth regarded him for a moment, before nodding his head. Carefully he placed the paper covered in Rath's notings on the nightstand, before slipping from the room. He poked his head round the door to Phoenix' room, where Sarah was just kissing their daughter goodnight. Phoenix' eyes where shut and her breathing already deepening in sleep as Sarah softly closed the door behind them.

She turned from the door, looking up at Jareth.

"Is Nathaniel alright?" she asked him.

Jareth nodded, "Just falling asleep," he replied.

Sarah reached out and touched the side of Jareth's loose fitting shirt. "Good," she whispered.

And then they were kissing, tongues engaging in a passionate duel as Sarah's hands moved to grip Jareth's narrow hips and his hands splayed on her back. Taking control, he turned them, pushing her back against the wall and shoving his knee between her legs and pressing upwards, lifting her feet off the ground so that she pressed tightly against the hard muscles of his thigh. Sarah gasped, her head falling forward, teeth sinking into the soft skin of his shoulder. Jareth hissed, his head falling back as she shifted, her leg brushing the erection tightening painfully in his breeches. He felt her smile against his shoulder seconds before he felt her hand grip him tightly, squeezing almost painfully through his clothing.

Jareth groaned a dropped his leg, catching Sarah against the wall so that she wouldn't fall. She looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Jareth felt himself grow harder in her hand. Sarah pressed forwards against him, her hand still between them as she brought her lips hotly back against his. Jareth moved his hands to her waist, starting to trace them up her ribcage, but Sarah's hand tightened painfully.

"No," she ground out. "No touching or..." she tightened her hand again.

Jareth groaned softly at the feeling, the pleasure mixed with the almost unbearable pain. He considered asserting his power, blasting her against the wall and taking her. He did not like giving up control. He looked down into Sarah's blazing eyes. No, he decided. He would let this run for a while and see where it going.

Sarah saw the submission in his eyes and grinned with triumph. He very rarely relinquished any control, and she knew she would pay dearly for this by the end of the night. She looked forward to the punishment. His cock seemed almost impossibly hard in her hand as she pressed her breasts tightly against his chest and ran her free hand down his back.

Jareth felt her untuck his shirt and he allowed his eyes to flicker shut at the feeling of her hand against the bare skin of his back. In all their years together, they had never abstained for this long and his senses seemed to be heightened to her. Sarah quickly withdrew her hand and raised it to her mouth, slightly damp with the sweat from his back. Jareth's eyes widened and he felt his cock twitch as she raised each finger to her lips and sucked off the slightly salty taste.

When her hand returned to his back he shivered at dampness carried on her hand. Carefully, her fingers slipped below the waistband of his breeches, laying across the tight muscles of his buttocks as she pressed their bodies closer together, staring up into his face, gauging his reaction as their bodies ground together. Carefully, she released his cock and brought that hand round to join the other. She curled her fingers, gripping his buttocks tightly as she rubbed her stomach against his painfully hard cock.

He hissed, his head falling forward as he nipped the shell of her ear sharply. ""Temptress," he whispered.

Sarah smiled to herself and tightened her grip, pulling his buttocks apart and tracing her fingers down between them. Jareth's attentions to her neck paused as the tip of one finger came to rest at his puckered entrance. Quickly, she brought one hand back round to grip his cock, her hand dropping to his balls, twisting very slightly.

Jareth gasped, his eyes flying open in the sudden pain. Sarah smiled in satisfaction and pressed her finger forward. Jareth leant his palms against the wall behind her head and gritted his teeth against the invasion. It felt like she was pushing forever until he felt her palm come to rest against him, the tip of her index finger lightly stroking the underside of his balls while the other hand returned to stroking his length. Sarah waited until his erratic breathing had steadied a little before she pulled out a little and added a second finger. She watched as Jareth bit his lip, but otherwise did nothing to stop her. When she was still once more Jareth brought his eyes to meet hers.

"Sarah..." he began but she twisted her fingers slightly and he fell silent.

"No talking," she told him. "Walk."

Jareth found it incredibly difficult to move with her fingers inside him, but when he stopped she tightened her hand around him so tightly that he thought his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. In his mind, it took forever to make it to the bedchamber, and when at last he pressed his shoulders back against the door and ceased moving, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Sarah smiled up at him and twisted her fingers, watching the expression on his face – a mixture of shock and pleasure.

Crossing and uncrossing her fingers within him so that he began to pant, Sarah lent up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.

"You will not come until I allow you to."

Jareth's hands fisted against the solid wood of the door upon which his shoulders rested, but he nodded his head obediently. Sarah laughed lightly and reached her hand into his breeches, pushing them down to is thighs and freeing his erection. She ran her up his length teasingly.

Jareth gritted his teeth and spoke into her mind. "_You'll pay for this."_

Sarah grinned at him. "I know," she said aloud, before dropping to her knees.

Softly, she took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue round his head, beginning to suck lightly. Gently, she began to bob her head, starting to pump her fingers in and out in the same rhythm. She was pleased to hear Jareth growl low in his throat and glanced up at him. His eyes were tight shut, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists, fighting the growing need with him. Sarah pushed her head forward as far as she could, swallowing him in at the same time as parting her fingers, stretching him wider.

Jareth stopped breathing altogether.

"Sarah..."he gasped and Sarah pulled back, looking up at him.

"Yes?" she asked innocently, before leaning forward and blowing lightly over his tip.

Jareth closed his eyes and bit his lip, shaking his head wordlessly. Sarah relented, knowing she could not hold out on him any longer when he was so desperate. And she did not want not hear him beg. Carefully she removed her fingers.

"Ok, Jareth."

She barely had time to say it before he was on her, spinning her around and pressing her back tightly to his chest, grinding his erection against her buttocks. She moaned and he pushed her harshly forward, bending her down so that her palms rested on the bed. She felt her jeans ripped down to her knees and his hand slip between her legs, encountering her readiness. She felt rather than heard his noise of satisfaction as one hand slipped to her stomach and he guided himself to her entrance.

And then, with one brutal thrust he was inside her, hands slipping up inside her shirt to play with her breasts as he pounded into her from behind. At that harsh pace neither lasted long and soon they were coming together, Sarah's legs giving way as she fell forward onto the bed, Jareth pressing tight to her back as he pumped his seed deep within her.

When it was over, Jareth rolled off her onto his back, pushing himself onto the bed properly as Sarah sank to her knees on the floor. Jareth brought his arm up across his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He caught Sarah's eye and the corner of his mouth twitched. Sarah's eyes twinkled.

And suddenly they were both laughing. Really laughing properly for the first time in ages. Sarah pulled herself off the floor and rolled onto the bed, laughing harder as her legs tangled with his and she kicked off her jeans as she moved to straddle him.

"You," she giggled, leaning down to tickle him with a handful of her hair. "You..."

"What?" he laughed, batting her away and bringing his hands to rest on her sides before pressing his fingers into the pressure points there.

"Hey," she squealed, squirming in his grip, trying to get away, but he was too strong, holding her round the waist and pressing his fingers harder into the pressure points. She leant down and began to tickle him in his exposed armpits.

"You little..." he laughed harder, squirming beneath her. "You little..."

"Yes?" she queried, redoubling her attack.

"You...you are the most...you little..."

And then they were rolling over, laughing and tickling each other, batting hands away and kissing any skin that came within reach of a mouth. Jareth twisted, slithering his body away from Sarah so that she collapsed in a giggling heap on the bed before renewing her attack.

"You...are..." Jareth batted a hand away that was tickling his lower stomach. He chuckled and nipped a nearby shoulder.

And then he spun them over, trapping her hands beneath his as he leant down over her, pinning her back against the bed and holding her there as she struggled to free herself. Slowly her fight subsided and they grinned down at each panting.

"Got you," whispered Jareth.

"Oh yeah," Sarah shot back and redoubled her efforts to escape.

"No you...you..." Jareth hung on until she was still once more.

"What Jareth?" she asked, her tongue poking between her teeth as she grinned up at him.

"You..." Jareth's own grin faded and his face became serious, "You are the most beautiful thing in the entire world." Sarah stared up at him for a second before raising her head to kiss him, but he pulled back. "And," he continued, "I love more than life itself."

Sarah smiled gently. "I love you to Jar..."

But Jareth's mouth crashed down on hers, stopping her sentence in a fiery kiss. It was only when she felt the warm skin of his chest pressing against her breasts that she realised he had vanished their clothes. Jareth wrapped his arms tightly round Sarah's back, moving one arm so that it supported her neck a little off the mattress so that he could encourage her to open her mouth wider, deepening the kiss even more, slowing the pace.

Sarah sighed in contentment, surrounded by her husband's warm, safe embrace. His protection and possessiveness. His weight pressing down on her, his arms holding her, their legs tangling on the bed. She smiled against his lips. Jareth pulled back, looking at her with such deep love in his eyes.

"What?" he murmured.

Sarah smiled and reached up to brush his unruly fringe from his eyes. "Nothing," she whispered back. "Love me, Jareth."

Jareth leant down and brushed his lips lightly against hers before pulling back so that he could look into her eyes as he very slowly sheathed himself in her warmth. Right up to the hilt. And then he stopped, brushing his lips over hers once more.

"Always and forever," he said huskily.

Sarah ran her fingers down the length of his spine and he shivered, the movement sending delicious waves of pleasure through their bodies. Jareth brought his lips down on hers once more, cradling her closer against his chest as he slowly began to move, sweetly feeding the coiling tendrils of passion until, with a soft, gasping moan Sarah came, tightening her arms around Jareth's shoulders, each holding the other through the shuddering throws of bliss.

And when it was over Jareth kissed her lightly once more before withdrawing and moving to the side, gathering Sarah to him, wrapping her in his warm embrace. Sarah lay in his arms, tracing little patterns on his strong chest with her finger tips and wondering whether or not to ask him the question that had been in the back of her mind since that day. She placed a warm kiss on the hollow of his throat and shifted so that she lay on her back once more, staring up at the ceiling. Jareth rolled over slightly, following her so that he was propped on one elbow, looking down at her face.

"Sarah," he asked, his voice gentle, "what is troubling you?"

Sarah's eyes flew to his briefly, amazed that he had read her so well. Although she supposed after so many years together, he knew when she had something on her mind. Jareth stroked his hand over the soft skin of her stomach, waiting for her to reply.

"Not troubling really...more wondering."

Jareth's fingers traced up her side, tickling her ribcage. He regarded her, waiting for her to continue.

"A wondering about...that day." A look of pain showed briefly in Jareth's eyes and then it was gone. He watched his hand as it traced the point of her hip. "A tiny detail, hardly important at all after...everything else."

Jareth drew a line from one hip to the other, fingertips ghosting so lightly over the sensitive skin between that it fluttered beneath his touch. He smiled slightly and ran the flat of his hand down the inside of her thigh before trailing one finger up again.

"What is it you want to know?" His finger brushed lightly against the damp lips of her sex and she shuddered involuntarily.

"Why I was suffocating," she said.

Jareth pulled his hand away and reached over her, running his hand down her far side and under her buttock, continuing down to her knee, lifting it so that her foot sat flat against the bed.

"You were suffocating because I was drowning." He caught her confused look. "I was drowning in a sea of spiders. They were choking me." He ran his hand down the inside of her bent leg before gripping the thigh nearest to him and pulling it further away for her other leg. "One breath, one heart beat. Remember?"

Sarah's sigh of realisation and understanding changed to one of pleasure as Jareth slipped one long finger inside her, his thumb moving up to tease her clit. He added a second finger, hooking them so that he brushed against the sweet spot within her, causing her to gasp in pleasure. But she still had one more thing to clarify.

"So when Toby gave me mouth to mouth..."

"You began to breathe, so I began to breathe," Jareth finished, leaning down over her so that the ghost of his breath mingled with hers. He added a third finger. "Do you trust me?"

Sarah shut her eyes against the strong stretching sensation as he moved his fingers up and down, causing a tightness to begin its coiling in her stomach. She was slightly confused by Jareth's question, especially since her current position would seem to indicate a strong positive in answer. But she looked into Jareth's steady gaze and answered him with his own words.

"Always and forever."

Jareth sighed and brought his lips lightly against hers, brushing back and forth before pausing long enough for his tongue to dart out and meet hers in a gentle dance of passion. His hips rocked slightly, rubbing his growing erection against her hip in time with his thrusting fingers. Sarah's tongue rolled round his in a sensuous massage. Carefully, Jareth added a fourth finger and flexed his hand slightly. Sarah's mouth flew away from his as she gasped at the intense feeling.

"Is this alright?" Jareth murmured against her lips, stilling the movement of his hand completely. Sarah's breath was coming in pants and he could feel her struggling to relax.

"Yeah," she gasped. "Very tight..." she grinned and shifted slightly, "but very good."

Jareth smiled, kissing her lightly before pulling back so that he could see her expression, scrutinizing her for signs of discomfort as he gently began thrusting his fingers once more, pushing slightly deeper with each thrust. Carefully he folded his thumb into the palm of his hand, making it as narrow as possible. Slowly, he began to push his hand forward, still watching Sarah's face.

Sarah's eyes flew open as she realised what he was doing. Her face filled with shock and instinctively she began to struggle. Jareth took the pressure off immediately, leaning over and kissing her, murmuring sweet encouragement until she relaxed once more.

"Hush my love, quiet Precious," Jareth whispered as he once more began to push forward and Sarah tried to over-ride her instinct to expel the invasion. "Clever girl, sweet love..." Jareth continued to whisper as he pushed forward with a little more force, the tightness at her opening seemingly impossibly resistant to get his knuckles past.

Sarah's breathing became more erratic as the pain increased, the widest part of his hand stretching the thin skin almost intolerably. And then Jareth felt his knuckles slip past the tightest part and heard Sarah's gasp. He pushed forward very gently and his hand slid in to the wrist as he concentrated hard, curling his fingers into a fist. And then he stopped, his painfully hard cock resting against Sarah's hip.

"Alright, Precious?" Jareth asked softly.

Sarah's chest was rising and falling rapidly as she panted. She felt so incredibly full, stretched tight. But his fist was pressing against the sweet spot within her, stretching her wide and even though it hurt, it felt so absolutely amazing.

"Yes," she gasped and Jareth smiled wickedly.

He leant his head down close to hers so that he could whisper sexily in her ear. "Tell me how it feels."

"God," Sarah felt herself become even more turned on if that were possible. "God Jareth how..."

Jareth nipped her shoulder. "I said," he growled, "tell me how it feels."

"Tight," she panted. "Almost unbearable. But at the same time so fucking good."

Jareth chuckled deeply, enjoying Sarah's use of language. He ground his cock against her hip as he spoke into her ear once more.

"If you want to be able to move tomorrow, you will have to beg my help."

He thrust his fist once, only moving it a tiny amount but the sensation caused Sarah's eyes to roll up into her head, even as she knew that what he said was right. Her fingers scrabbled at handfuls of sheet as Jareth began to move his fist in a rhythm designed to drive her crazy with passion. He dropped his head, tongue flicking out over one of her nipples and Sarah cried out. The feeling of Jareth possessing her so fully and intimately causing waves of desire and passion to crash over her, adding to the rising tide of her orgasm. Jareth ground his cock against her hip in time with his fist, feeding his own orgasm, determined to stay with her all the way. As he thrust, he began rotating his fist so that it turned within her, knuckles bumping over tightly stretched ridges of her walls. Sarah's hips rose up off the mattress.

"Faster," Sarah panted, writhing against him, pressing against his cock and causing him to grit his teeth in an effort not to come. "Harder."

Jareth complied, deepening each thrust a little and speeding up. And then, suddenly, Sarah's internal muscles clenched round his hand in an almost bone shattering grip and she was coming to pieces around him in one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced. Jareth pushed himself against her once more before he two flew over the edge into that blissful tide of rapture, face pressed hotly against her neck.

As Sarah's rippling walls fell still, Jareth slowly began to uncurl his fingers, causing Sarah to moan low in her throat. Jareth covered her mouth with his, absorbing the groans from her battered body as he gently withdrew his fist, sliding it free much easier than its entry. He raised his hand and traced a sticky line down between her breasts.

"And tell me how you feel now," he spoke against her lips.

Sarah struggled to form a coherent thought process as Jareth slipped a hand beneath her a traced her puckered entrance, teasing slightly before allowing his hand to slide up and rest on her ribcage.

"Empty," she managed as the dull ache throbbed within her, "and really full. That was...amazing. And I miss you inside me."

Jareth laughed darkly against her lips. "I want you to miss me every second I'm not inside you. Filling you. Stretching you. I want you to miss me so much it hurts. So that you would rip out your heart for a few more seconds with me."

As he said it he flattened her hand against his chest, dropping the illusion for the few moments it took for her to feel the lack of heartbeat. Her eyes widened and she tried to move closer towards him, but a stab of pain from deep within in her caused her to freeze.

"Sshh," Jareth smoothed his hand over her breast, "don't try to move. Feel the ache." His finger traced the medallion shaped scar on her chest. "Branded as mine..."

His mouth closed over hers and she surrendered herself to the kiss as his hand roamed once more over her ribcage, straying downward to her stomach, resting there. And Sarah felt the ache fade in response to the electric tingle of fingers before he pushed himself over her once more and, without breaking the kiss slid back inside her. Making them both whole.

"Ache for me," he whispered. "Have me. I am yours."

**Please let me know what you think! Next chapter up soon. xxx**


	54. Chapter 54

**Hey everyone. Once again, really really sorry about the delay – Christmas and all that. But you don't want excuses. So here is the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. xxx**

Nathaniel stood on top of the mound, the wind whipping his hair back from his eyes, his hand clasping tightly onto that of his mother. His father stood behind him, staring at the cracked clock face set into the grass. Jareth rested a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Shall we do it?" Jareth tightened his fingers and led Nathaniel and Sarah to the stone seal at the entrance to the tomb. He felt strange. Disconnected. The dead body of his son lay just a few metres away. He reached out and touched the stone.

"Jareth..." began Sarah but Toby reached and touched her arm, silencing her. Jareth dropped to his knees staring blankly at the stone. He had been unable to save him. He was dead.

Phoenix stepped forward and wrapped her arms round Jareth's neck.

"It's ok Daddy," she whispered to him. "It's not your fault."

Jareth nodded into her hair, his hand absently caressing her back. He looked up at Nathaniel.

"Are you ready?" he asked, stretching out his hand but Nathaniel shook his head.

"It'll be neater if you do it."

Jareth looked up into his son's eyes and then bowed his head. "Sarah?"

Sarah moved to stand behind Jareth, placing her hand on the back of his head, supporting him. She guided Phoenix and Nathaniel to rest a hand on each of his shoulders. She gestured to Toby but he backed away.

"No, it should just be his family," he muttered. Inside he felt guilty about his impending desertion.

Jareth closed his eyes and stretched out his hand, feeling the rough contours of the stone, planning. After a few seconds he stilled.

"Think about Rath," he whispered. "All the things you remember. Why you love him. The fall of his hair. His smile. His deep love and empathy. Send it all to me."

As they did as he said he felt the tips of his fingers grow warm. He touched the stone once more, below the epitaph to Pan, and carefully he began to write.

And Rath Lawrence Amrit

To whom a Great Debt is owed,

Who is truly immortal in memory and love.

'Oh, then, be a man — and, whatever betide,  
Keep truth thy companion, and honour thy guide.'

Jareth stared at the lettering before him, dry eyed and still. Behind him, Sarah took hold of Phoenix and Nathaniel and led them away, leaving Jareth a few moments of blessed peace before he had to resume his role of father and king. He shut his eyes and reached with his consciousness as high and as far as he could, straining to feel the presence of the dead that filled the graveyard around him. And all at once he heard it, soft and clear like the gently bubbling of a stream in summer. Rath's voice in the meadow. Words meant for Jareth alone, not his companions who led him to paradise.

I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,

And oh my grave the warmer sweeter be,

If you should bend and tell me that you love me,

And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

Jareth leant forward so that his brow rested against the stone seal. "I love you Rath," he whispered. "I love you."

Jareth rose to his feet and turned, feeling the love swelling in his heart for his family, knowing that Rath was happy. He walked over to where Sarah was talking to Toby and snaked his arm round her waist, kissing her on the cheek.

"Come on," he spoke into her ear. "Let's go."

Sarah turned her head and brushed her lips across his. "Yes," she said.

Jareth turned, his eyes seeking Nathaniel. "Are you ready?" The small boy shook his head. "Do you want to stay a bit longer, on your own?"

"I can take myself back in a while," he said quietly and Jareth looked at him sternly. A transport would be the most powerful piece of magic Nathaniel had attempted since Rath's death. "I can do it Father."

And suddenly he seemed older once more, holding himself with the confidence that had outlined his bearing before any of the tragic events had occurred, and Jareth knew too that Nathaniel could do it. And that he had to be allowed to. To prove his independence and to move on. He turned to Phoenix, but she too shook her head.

"I want to walk," she said. "Through the Labyrinth."

"Phoenix don't be ridiculous!" Jareth exclaimed, reaching out to grab her arm, but she darted out of his way.

"I want to walk through the Labyrinth," she said again. "I can call Elixsyure if I get tired."

"Young lady, don't you dare dispute my authority." Jareth was towering dangerously, his mismatched eyes sparkling with ice.

"I'm not a little girl anymore," Phoenix shouted back.

"You are a child."

"Jareth?" Sarah placed her hand gently on his arm and he turned his ferocious gaze on her. She flinched, but held her ground. "Jareth, she is the same age I was when I found my way through your Labyrinth."

"That was different," Jareth muttered through gritted teeth. It felt like the ultimate betrayal to have Sarah disagree with him. "Phoenix is not you. She is not as resourceful."

"I was a spoiled brat."

"She has no magic."

"Neither did I."

Jareth glared at her for a moment and saw that spark in her eye that had defeated him once before. He knew he would have to concede. "Tobias goes with her," he shouted and grabbed Sarah's wrist, pulling her into nothingness as he transported them the hell out of there.

"No Jareth! I need to talk..." Toby let his hand fall as he realised he was too late. "...to you."

Nathaniel stared at them for a few moments and then turned, starting to climb back up the mound in which Pan and Rath lay. He sat down hugging his knees.

Phoenix smiled sweetly up at Toby and stretched out her hand to him. Toby glowered down at her and set off towards the edge of the meadow but he stopped short as he heard her laughing voice exclaiming after him.

"Toby, you're going the wrong way."

He turned on his heel and marched back towards her, following her as she began to skip away towards the turned, her hair catching the sun. There was something new in her eyes. Nathaniel watched the exchange with interest. Something suddenly now made sense that had puzzled him since Toby's arrival. He hid a grin and glanced to his side, as though expecting to see someone who was not there. His face fell again but still he whispered, "Well how about that."

He would tell his father when he got home, he decided. But first he was going to spend some time with his brother.

* * *

Jareth and Sarah appeared in their bedchamber in the castle but Jareth did not let go of her wrist. He spun her round, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her hard.

"Don't ever undermine me like that again," he roared and sparks of electricity fizzled in his fingers and hair.

"She's old enough not to be treated like a child," Sarah answered back and Jareth pushed her backwards so that she sprawled on the bed. He leaned over, a sneer on his pale face.

"I would use the device but I require access which it would not afford me."

Sarah felt herself grow wet, his hard look enhancing the sensation. But still she was angry with him. "You are so protective. Over protective. At some point she will leave here. At some point she will fall in love. At some point she will look to another man for her protection. Not you."

Jareth snarled and ripped Sarah's shirt open, exposing her breasts and leaning down, biting into the soft flesh. "But not yet. She is only fourteen." He lowered his head and bit again and Sarah's head rolled back in the mixture of pain and pleasure.

"I...I was fourteen," she gasped, "...when I fell in love."

Jareth raised his head from her breast and looked at her with cold, ice dancing eyes. He plunged mouth to her lips, ravishing her tongue and raping her throat with the depth of his kiss. His hand pushed down and ripped open her jeans and he reached into the air, a thin chain forming in his hand. He tore his mouth from hers. Phoenix may not be his forever, but Sarah was. He grinned nastily.

"I have a present for you," he muttered against her mouth and sank his teeth into her lower lip. Sarah tasted blood and she whimpered beneath Jareth's assault, turned on so strongly she thought she was going to melt. Jareth grinned savagely again and unwrapped the chain from round his hand. Three interlocking chains in the shape of a Y. Her breath hitched and her eyes widened.

"Scared Sarah?" Jareth jeered. She didn't reply. He bent his head and kissed her. As he did so he reached between them and clipped the first nipple clamp into place. Sarah gasped into his mouth but he didn't let up. Laying the chain across her chest he clipped on the second clamp and gave the chain a small tug. Sarah groaned and her torso lifted up off the bed, following the pull of the clamps. Jareth moved his hand down and pressed hard against her clit before pumping two fingers into her shivering body. Sarah came hard and quickly, but before the fluttering had subsided Jareth clipped the third clamp to her clit and tightened it. Sarah moaned and struggled weakly.

"Not so eloquent now, are you my dear," Jareth whispered smoothly.

"Bastard," Sarah muttered.

Jareth wrapped his hand into the chains at the point where they interlocked and tugged gently. Sarah let out a little scream. "And don't you ever forget it again."

In a second he had vanished his clothes and plunged into her, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he began to pump relentlessly into her, his hand still fisted in the chain, tugging in a rhythm altogether different to his thrusts. Sarah came again and Jareth leant down and nipped her neck, pushing her on as he continued to plunge into her. He could feel his own completion approaching and tugged harshly upwards on the chain. Sarah screamed.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked harshly.

"Oh God," Sarah moaned as he pulled even harder.

"I said, who do you belong to?"

"You, Jareth. Oh God, only you!"

Jareth vanished the chain, allowing the blood to run back into Sarah's sensitive nipples and clit. She cried out in pleasure at the sensation and came long and hard, her arms wrapping round Jareth's back, pushing him deeper and pulling her with him as he released his load into her.

For a few moments Jareth held himself still above her before he rolled off, stood up and walked out the room, his clothes materialising on his body as he left. Sarah lay on her back panting, staring up at the ceiling.

* * *

As Sarah walked through the castle looking for Jareth she heard the main door open and diverted to see who it was. Nathaniel stood silhouetted against the daylight, looking taller and older than he had ever done before. Sarah crossed over to him and put an arm round his shoulders.

"You got back alright then?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Mother, there's something I think you need to know. About Phoenix."

Sarah nodded her head. "I think I already know. I was looking for your father."

"He's in the study," Nathaniel told her, looking down the corridor.

"How do you...oh never mind. Come on."

"You want me to come to?" Nathaniel looked surprised at being invited to such an adult conversation.

"You might be twelve, but you are far from a child. And I know you love your sister very much." Sarah smiled at him.

"It was always Phoenix and Rath...I kept them at a distance...I thought I was better...because of the magic." Nathaniel lowered his eyes to the floor.

"So change that," said Sarah. "Come on."

When they entered the study Jareth was standing with his back to the door, looking at a picture of his three children that had been painted by Hoggle one summer day a few years ago. The dwarf was no artist, but there was something about the picture. He had captured something in each of the children that made them uniquely them. An insight into their souls. Phoenix was sitting cross legged on the grass wearing a daisy chain and smiling. Rath lay facing the artist, his head propped in both his hands and his feet kicked up behind him. He wore a cheeky grin on his face, as though he had just stuck out his tongue seconds previously. Nathaniel was lying between them, his head resting on Rath's back and his legs draped over Phoenix' lap. He had his hands in his pockets and his eyes were shut, but there was a slight quirk to his lips as though he knew he was in the position of power, on top of his siblings.

Jareth did not move when Sarah and Nathaniel entered, but after a few moments he spoke.

"It's Toby isn't it."

Sarah was so shocked that Jareth had said Toby instead of Tobias that for a few moments she hesitated.

"Yes, I think so."

Jareth's shoulders seemed to slump and Sarah crossed to him, wrapping her arm round his waist and letting her head fall onto his shoulder. Nathaniel stood uncertainly in the doorway.

"She's too young," Jareth whispered.

"She's got your fire. Your determination. She knows her own mind."

"How do you know it's not just a temporary infatuation? She has not met many young men after all." Jareth was clutching at straws and he knew it.

"She knows," said Nathaniel quietly. "I saw it in her eyes in the graveyard."

"Would you rather she married the son of a council member. Perhaps young Horatio who was so enamoured of her that he kept pawing at her until she spent the rest of that ball dancing with you or Rath." Sarah was referring to the Summer Ball of the previous year. Nathaniel had refused to dance with his older sister. "Or perhaps one of your cousins?" Sarah knew this was a low blow, but the ghost of Raemon was enough to stir Jareth's reactions.

"NO!" he said vehemently.

"Then who? As you know it will happen one day."

"Toby saved yours and Mother's lives. And he cared for Phoenix. He's seen her at her worst and he still cared," whispered Nathaniel.

Jareth dropped his head and sighed. "It seems I am left with little alternative, unless I wish to become a villain in the eyes of my daughter." Sarah ran her hand over his cheek and smiled gently at him. "But I ask for one thing. A little more time. Four years. Let her reach eighteen. Then, if she still wishes it..."

"She will," broke in Nathaniel and Sarah shot him a look.

"...If she still wishes it, then..."

Sarah bent down and kissed him on the lips. "Thankyou," she said sincerely.

"My God," whispered Jareth and he looked stunned. He felt like his life was spinning out of his control. "It seems that I have now lost my son and my daughter."

"You haven't lost her Jareth. Things change. You always knew it would happen." Sarah took his hand in hers.

"Yes," Jareth brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. "But not so soon."

Nathaniel hopped up so that he was sitting on Jareth's desk. "No," he said quietly. "You will always have me."

Jareth looked at his son and felt a deep glow of affection. "And thank God for that." He enveloped Nathaniel in his arms.

Sarah stepped up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She whispered in his ear so that Nathaniel couldn't hear, "And me. Forever and ever."

* * *

"Come on Toby, stop being so sour." Phoenix flicked her hair over her shoulder and twirled in the air. Toby watched her. Her hair, brilliant in the sun. Her blue eyes shining. Her bright smile, just for him. Had there ever been anything more beautiful. And she wanted him. He longed to take her in his arms. She smiled at him and beckoned and suddenly he found that he could not resist anymore. He started towards her, feeling a heat burning in his eyes.

Toby stopped abruptly and drew in his breath, his heart beating faster. Phoenix let out a surprised little scream as she spun once more on the spot and found herself held tightly in her father's warm embrace.

"Hello Daddy," Phoenix laughed but her smile faltered a bit at the serious look on Jareth's face.

"We need to talk," Jareth said gruffly, looking over Phoenix' head at Toby.

Toby swallowed, feeling nervous. He bowed his head in acquiescence.

**Any reviews would be greatly appreciated. FY.A xxx**


	55. Chapter 55

**Here is the next chapter. I think we are nearing the end now, perhaps four more chapters? Anyway, let me know what you think.**

Toby staggered and just managed to avoid falling into the clear river that had appeared in front of him. No, he mentally corrected himself, he had just appeared in front of it. His feet were smooth river pebbles and as he turned round the freshness of the air caught at his throat and begged him to breath it in. Heather stretched away from the bank, marred by the scars of peat cutting. Hills rose behind him, sharp and craggy, rearing into the clear sky and frowning down at him. Sighing, Toby ran his hand over his head and began to walk.

Four years.

It took him the best part of two hours before he saw any sign of another human being and by that time the dark peat mud had soaked through his canvas shoes and a good way up the legs of his jeans. It had started to spit with rain and Toby was very much reminded of the fact that all he wore was a single T-shirt.

Four years.

The cottage he had seen was the first of four low houses with dark slates on the roofs, whitewashed walls and wide window sills that told of thick stone built walls. Incongruously, this tiny hamlet also seemed to be in possession of a petrol station. Toby stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a few quarters. Not very useful. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

Four years. An eternity.

Her face came unbidden to his mind. Her blue eyes shining with tears as she had clung to him. Her arms a steel band round his chest, but nothing like the one that crushed at his heart and restricted his breathing at the thought of being separated from her. Her lips against his as he had kissed her. And then she had clung to him even tighter so that he could not leave her behind. Jareth's firm grip pulling her away and her passionate pleas as she had reached for him. But then as Jareth extended his hand it had faded. And he was by the stream.

Four years. And his heart was dying already.

Carefully Toby pushed open the door to the petrol station and a bell jangled noisily above his head. The smell of sweets and sweat assaulted him, sending him reeling in a wave of disbelief that he was really back Aboveground. And that petrol stations existed.

A small woman bustled in through a door that clearly lead into the house to which the office was attached. She stopped short at the sight of the tall, blond young man covered in mud and looking as though he was about to pass out from exhaustion. But her surprise was quickly covered as she offered him an easy smile.

"Whell now," she said and something about her accent gave Toby pause. He looked around himself for any sign of where he was, but could only see more pictures of the towering mountains outside.

"Umm," he said, "excuse me ma'am, could you tell me where I am?"

"Whell now," the woman said again with the same kindly smile. "Wood you look at that. Youwer an American boy."

Her accent had a sing-song quality to it that Toby could not place, but it was soothing and he offered the woman a winning smile.

"Yes ma'am," he agreed. "I live in New York at the moment, but I seem to be lost. Where am I please?"

The woman's laugh rang out with the same musical quality as her speech.

"Youwer a long wey from home son. Deed you fly?" She laughed again at her own joke and Toby waited patiently for her amusement to die down. "By the good Lord, youwer no havin me own! And there wass me peing aw thoughtless t'you. Well lad, youwer on Skye."

The woman saw his look of incomprehension.

"Skye son. The Scottish Hebrides."

Toby stared at her. The Hebrides? Scotland? That bastard Jareth had landed him on a Godforsaken island on the wrong side of the Atlantic? And suddenly Toby couldn't take it anymore. He slumped back, leaning against the door as he slid to the floor as the last of his strength deserted him. He wondered what Phoenix was doing, comfortable in the paradise that was her Underground home. Peaceful and loved.

Four years.

And then, for the first time since he had realised, at the age of eight, that his mother was useless and so wrapped up in herself that she could not care less what he did, for the first time since he had realised that he would have to look after himself, for the first time since he had realised that he was now suddenly a man, Toby felt tears prick at the back of his eyes and he dropped his head into his hands.

Jareth stormed through the backs streets of the Goblin City and before him all the little creatures that inhabited the dark alleys fled from sight, cowering in any corner they felt they would not be discovered. He could still hear Sarah's voice, calling his name as she sought him high and low. So he strode deeper, trying to lose himself although he knew it was fruitless to try to get lost in a place that you know every inch of.

He could have taken Phoenix' anger, he could have taken her tears. But he couldn't take her coldness. He loved his daughter, adored her. She was his little girl who he had held in his arms and sung to sleep. But he had not recognised the young woman who clung to the blond haired youth, who had kissed him. And who, after the boy had vanished, he stood stiffly in his arms and refused to look at him. She had stood woodenly as he had tried to explain gently, showed no reaction when he had lost his temper. And when he fell silent her quiet voice was the worst of all.

"I hate you."

He had reached out his hand to try to...he did not know what...but she had turned and left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Jareth had stared after her for a long time, the silence in the room heavy as Sarah and Nathaniel held their breath, expecting an outburst. But he had simply turned, strode across the room and dropped from the window.

Jareth paced through the Labyrinth as the until the night fell, not returning to the castle for the evening meal but instead dropping himself into the dark oubliette where Sarah had become trapped all those years ago. He leant against the damp wall, listening the creepy crawly creatures of the night begin their shuffling. And he thought. Four years. It was not that long in the grand scheme of things. He was...how many years old? He had lost count. Four years was nothing. But then she was fourteen. And for her it was more than a quarter of her life. Four years. It was the time he had waited for Sarah. The most painful years of his long existence. The pain of that time haunted his memory, taking its place with the ache that was the loss of his son. Four years for an eternity. But those four years were an eternity in themselves.

Stiffly Jareth pulled himself to his feet and fitted the door into the stone wall. But he did not open it as Hoggle had done, instead grasping it at the top and opening it like a hatch. He stepped through into the clear Underground night.

When he soared through the dark to the window of his chamber, he felt a deep wave of love wash through him. Sarah had left it open for him. Quietly, trying not to rattle his claws and wake her Jareth landed and crept into the room. He looked down at the sleeping face of his wife for a few moments before coming to a decision. Silently, he crossed back to the window and slipped out, spreading his wings and letting the night air carry him round to a different window that he knew was always left open.

He sat on the window sill and watched as Phoenix turned onto her side in her sleep. Her face was smoothed of the lines of anger he had seen marring it earlier and she looked so young and innocent in the moonlight. Jareth sighed and moved into the room, kneeling down beside his sleeping daughter and smoothing her hair away from her face. Sleepily her eyes blinked open.

"Phoenix honey?" She stared at him but otherwise did not react. "Phoenix honey," he whispered again, "I'm sorry."

Her thumb crept into her mouth, a habit that she still could not break, especially when she was sleepy, while her other hand sought out his hand. Her voice was laced with sleep and muffled through the thumb she did not take from her mouth.

"I love him Daddy."

Jareth blinked hard, trying to hide the fact that it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

"I know honey."

Phoenix smiled and her eyes slipped closed again as she drew his hand to her, cuddling it like she had when she was small. Jareth tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

Phoenix spoke again, although her eyes barely flickered open enough to catch a glimpse of him.

"Bu that doesn't mean I don't love you."

Jareth stared at his beautiful daughter as her face began to relax once more into the smooth lines of slumber, his hand still wrapped in her arms. And then, very quietly, she began to hum and Jareth could no longer hold back the tears as he softly joined in with the words of the lullaby she had so loved as a little girl.

Soft her cheek as eiderdown is

Warm and soft her arms entwining...

As Phoenix's breath steadied into the pattern of sleep Jareth sat with her for long time more, wondering if this was the last time he would see this beautiful young woman as a little girl.

It was much later when he finally extracted his hand from her warm embrace and she moaned softly when he withdrew its comfort. He smiled slightly and leant over, placing a soft kiss on her warm brow.

"I love you too, Phoenix," he whispered, before rising, pulling the door softly shut behind him.

He slipped into bed quietly, trying not to wake Sarah, rolling onto his side so that he could watch her sleeping profile. She muttered something and he smiled, watching her dreams flit across her face. And when he finally rolled over to get some sleep, she rolled too, wrapping her sleeping body around him in a warm embrace of love and affection. Jareth closed his eyes and contently let sleep take him.

**Reviews? This is not the last chapter remember. Let me know what you think. xxx**


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